


Show, Don't Tell

by jeosheo



Series: Every Afternoon [1]
Category: iKON (Kpop)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Drunk Sex, Feelings, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, Kink Negotiation, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Panic Attacks, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 11:50:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8142733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeosheo/pseuds/jeosheo
Summary: “I just-- I thought about it, and,” Bobby struggles with his words, “I’ve never been with a guy, you know?”
Hanbin has no idea where this is going, but he nods.
“And, actually,” Bobby fumbles, “I was always kind of curious.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> [Jean ValJean voice] what have I done sweet jesus what have I done
> 
> Hello lovely person! A couple warnings:
> 
> 1) smuuuuut (+ feelings)  
> 2) Hanbin experiences some serious self-esteem issues as well as multiple panic attacks in this fic. I love you and I want you to be happy so if you’d like to know the location of the attacks in advance: (spoiler alert— the first one is when Hanbin is worrying about them recording well; the second is the dance practice scene after Hanbin’s brushing his teeth).  
> 3) There is a scene of consensual sex under the influence, with a hint of d/s power exchange to it, but if this is a concern and you’d like more details before reading, message me! 
> 
> I hope that you enjoy and I hope that your day is wonderful!

Hanbin has no idea how the lunch conversation came to this, but all of a sudden they’re talking about gay sex. 

He thinks it began with some sort of ‘ideal type’ conversation, which became an ‘if I was gay, I’d...’ discussion, which means someone says, ‘if I were gay, I’d bang so-and-so,’ which Hanbin always thought was a strange conversation anyway so he stays out of it, but then all of a sudden everyone’s laughing at Chanwoo’s pick, and Chanwoo is embarassed but defending, “It’s a good choice!”

“Didn’t know that was your type,” Jinhwan jokes.

“You know what I mean!” Chanwoo says. “A manly man has to find a pretty guy.” 

And, you know what. 

It’s really not Hanbin’s job to distribute sexual knowledge. Not to anyone in the world, but _especially_ not to the other members. Except for the fact that they are slinging some ridiculous untruths out there right now, and at a certain point he can’t allow it anymore. Hanbin’s professional perfectionism sometimes creeps into mundane events in his life like his everyday conversations, and this is one of those moments. 

He just can’t walk away letting everyone think that fucking between two men is whatever they seem to think it is.

“What are you talking about?” Hanbin interrupts.

Chanwoo turns to him. “What?”

“What do you mean,” Hanbin repeats, “a manly man has to find a girly guy?”

Chanwoo flushes. “Well you know, when two men are together, doesn’t one have to, like...be the man, and the other one the woman?” 

From the next seat over, Yunhyeong nods his assent.

Hanbin pauses, astonished. “That’s absolutely not true.”

“What,” Chanwoo jokes nervously, “are you saying two manly men fuck each other?”

“I’m saying,” Hanbin says slowly, “that no one has to be the man or the woman. That’s a really weird way to think about it.”

“Then who...you know, does the other one?” Yunhyeong asks, growing red but determined to prove his point. “How do they know?”

Wow. 

Hanbin knows-- he knows a lot of people think these things, okay, but he’s still a little terrified that his members believe it too. See, _this_ is why he had to step in.

“Who says one person does all the fucking?” Hanbin counters.

Yunhyeong chokes on air.

“I can’t believe you guys,” Hanbin continues, irritated. Jinhwan offers Yunhyeong water as Bobby pounds him on the back. “A girly guy can fuck a manly man. It’s just dicks. I don’t know where you guys get this stuff.”

“How do you even _know_ that?” Donghyuk asks.

Something about the way he says it doesn’t sit right with Hanbin. “Everyone knows that,” he says, despite the fact that he’s just proved the opposite. He starts to feel uneasy. “I’m just saying--“

“Hyung,” Junhoe cuts in.

At the look on Junhoe’s face, Hanbin halts. 

The room is still. 

And everyone is staring at him. 

Fear forms in the pit of Hanbin’s stomach. _Not good, not good, not good,_ a voice chants in the back of his head.

Hanbin has to get out of there. “Nevermind. I’m done,” he announces, regarding both the meal and the conversation. He gets up and drops his plate in the sink. “Everyone finish up, we need to leave soon.” 

He exits the kitchen before anyone can say anything else.

\--

They try to hide it, but to Hanbin it’s obvious: for the rest of the day, everyone watches him. Through meals and meetings and a brief group shopping trip, Hanbin can feel their eyes on him. Every time he turns, they look away, but never quite fast enough. 

Hanbin worries that maybe he’s made a massive mistake. 

\--

As soon as they’re all back in the dorm, he secludes himself in his room.

It’s not that he’s hiding, he’s just...alright, he’s hiding. But he needs to be alone to think. 

Hanbin’s in the middle of considering how he can take back what he said when there’s a light knock, followed by Bobby walking in to the room they share. 

“Hey,” Bobby says, his expression apprehensive, and Hanbin knows immediately that he wants to talk. 

Fuck. Hanbin doesn’t want to be kicked out of the group. He doesn’t want to lose his friends and his career just because he ran his mouth without thinking for twenty seconds.

“Can we talk?”

But what can he do to stop it? 

“Okay,” Hanbin says. 

Bobby settles down on the other side of the bed, across from him, and takes a deep breath.

Hanbin, in his nervousness, beats him to the punch. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

“What?” Bobby looks surprised. “No, you’re not in trouble. What are you talking about?”

“About--“ Hanbin gestures vaguely. “You know-- what I said today.”

Bobby’s eyebrows raise. “About fucking guys?”

Sometimes Hanbin forgets that Bobby spent a good part of his youth in the states, where he probably heard people talk about gay sex like it wasn’t the end of the world. “I was going to say something about that, but not that you’re in trouble or anything,” Bobby says. “Hanbin, honestly,” he takes a serious tone Hanbin rarely ever hears from him, “it’s not that big a deal. It’s...unexpected, but they’ll get over it.” 

Oh. 

Relief punches the breath back into Hanbin’s chest.

“Did you think we were gonna kick you out of the group or something?” Bobby asks, confused.

Hanbin shrugs, looking away.

“Jesus,” Bobby says, blinking. “Bin, it’s not the end of the world. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re still leader. Just give everyone some time to process.”

Hanbin exhales, feeling the anxiety drain from his body. 

“Maybe it was just a...surprise to everyone,” Bobby says carefully. 

Hanbin thinks he’s really saying, _it was a surprise to me,_ in the way that he’s hurt that Hanbin never trusted him with that information. But before Hanbin can respond, _I don’t know why I never said anything,_ Bobby moves on.

“That’s not-- I didn’t want to talk so I could, like, tell you you’re in trouble,” Bobby explains.

“Oh,” says Hanbin.

“I just-- I thought about it, and,” Bobby struggles with his words, “I’ve--I’ve never been with a guy, you know?”

Hanbin has no idea where this is going, but he nods.

“And, actually,” Bobby fumbles, “I was always kind of curious.” 

Hanbin nods again, slower.

Bobby looks to the ceiling. “And I was wondering, if, you know, if I could...learn from you.”

Hanbin repeats back, “Learn from me.”

“Yeah.” 

It takes Hanbin a second.

“I just...wanted to know what it was like,” Bobby tells the ceiling sheepishly.

Hanbin’s jaw drops.

Bobby coughs awkwardly. “So. Yep. Anyways. You can so no. Obviously. Just. Yeah.” His eyes dart to the door, like he might run away.

Hanbin reassesses the situation. 

Bobby’s clear nervousness, his awkward movements, his fumbled words-- he didn’t come into the room scared of having to reject Hanbin from the group. He’s scared of _being rejected by Hanbin._

“You...want me to... _teach_ you,” Hanbin confirms.

Bobby nods, but he won’t look at Hanbin. “Yes.”

“...sex,” Hanbin clarifies.

Bobby blushes. “Yes.”

“I don’t--“ Hanbin starts to feel panic. “I can’t--“ He abruptly stands, suddenly needing to get away.

Bobby turns mortified. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have--ah, shit, Bin--“

Hanbin makes ‘hold on’ hands, and Bobby stops.

“I just,” Hanbin says carefully. “Hyung, I just...I need to be by myself.” He closes his eyes, tries to make sense of what’s going on. “I need to think. By myself. It’s just been a really long day. Okay?”

Still looking terrified, Bobby nods.

“All right,” Hanbin says, and he escapes.

\--

Hanbin walks and walks in the dark, for so long that he loses track of time. He almost gets lost, too, except that he apparently knows his way around the area better than he’d thought. He’s pretty sure he’d get in trouble with management if anyone found out that he was out roaming the streets by himself, especially at this hour, but he kind of couldn’t care less. 

After two hours of wandering, he finds a spot with a beautiful view of the city skyline, and sits down to compose a text. 

It’s just three letters, but it takes him nearly fifteen minutes to hit send.

_yes_

Almost immediately after sending it, Bobby texts back.

_u sure?_

Hanbin exhales. _im sure._

_okay_

Hanbin’s too scared to return to the dorm then, so he waits another hour and a half and then heads back. By the time he enters his room, the lights are out and Bobby’s totally under, face smushed into a pillow.

Too tired to parse out the mix of emotions he’s carrying, Hanbin slides under his own covers and falls sleep. 

\--

There’s nothing for them to officially do the next day; they’re about to gear up for the new album, recording and promotions, so they get a precious handful of days off leading up to that. Hanbin doesn’t see much of anyone for most of it, partly because he secrets himself away for a good half, and partly because everyone seems to be busy or away when he emerges. He’s not sure if that’s on purpose, to avoid Hanbin, or if everyone really is so fleeting on their day off. 

He barely even sees Bobby, who acts totally normal, if not for a slight blush when he first catches Hanbin’s eye in the morning. For some reason, it comforts Hanbin, a little bit.

Late in the evening, Hanbin catches up to the group when he joins in on dinner. It’s stilted, and it’s uncomfortable, but it’s not terrible. He reminds himself of Bobby’s words: _just give everyone some time._ Hanbin can trust Bobby with judgements like that, knowing when to back off and let people be. He replays the words until they reassure him. _Just give everyone some time._

\--

After dinner, when it’s just Hanbin and Bobby back in their room, sitting on their respective beds doing nothing, Hanbin musters up the courage to speak.

“Um,” he begins, and Bobby looks up from his phone. “I was thinking...tonight, we might...”

Bobby squints at him.

“...work on learning some stuff,” Hanbin says.

Bobby nearly drops his phone. “Yeah?”

Hanbin nods. 

He beckons Bobby over, and the older joins him on the bed, looking supremely nervous. Well, that makes two of them.

“What do you know about fucking between two men?” Hanbin asks, and he’s proud of how steady his voice sounds.

“Um,” Bobby appears to wrack his brain, and he’s about to speak when Hanbin waves a hand to cut him off.

“No, no, don’t tell me, I know what you think it is.” Hanbin is not interested in hearing Bobby say the words ‘anal sex,’ or any approximation thereof, right now. “Stuff with asses, I get it.”

“Right,” Bobby says, looking relieved. “Um, I guess that’s it.”

“That’s just, like, one thing,” Hanbin supplies. He feels like he’s got a lot of authority right now, though he’s not sure he deserves it. He’s not an expert or anything. “Anal sex means prepping, so you know,” Hanbin gestures at nothing. “People don’t want to do that all the time.”

Bobby’s face twists in confusion. “Prepping?”

“Prepping,” Hanbin says, “like, before fucking.”

“Oh.” Bobby says. “What’s that?”

Right.

_This is it,_ Hanbin thinks. This is the chance to back out, to stop before they go too far.

But instead, he says, “let’s start with prepping, then. It’s basic, I guess.” 

Bobby nods.

Hanbin coughs awkwardly. “Um. Lay down.” 

Bobby lays down-- carefully, though, like he might be doing it wrong.

Hanbin settles down so that they’re laying side by side, and tries not to think about how this could be a massive, unerasable, unsurvivable mistake.

“Well,” he announces, because they have to start somewhere, “I kind of have to be out of my clothes.” 

“Do I undress you?” Bobby says, looking like he’ll actually do it if Hanbin says yes.

“Nope nope nope,” Hanbin rushes out, “I got it.” 

With fumbling fingers, he begins to remove his pants, then realizes it’ll be weird if he’s wearing no bottoms but tops, so he switches to taking off his sweater first. “Gonna undress completely, fair warning,” he informs.

“Should I undress too?” Bobby asks.

“There’s not like a protocol for it,” Hanbin babbles. “It’s not that big a deal. Just, you know what, you’re fine like that. Stay in your clothes. It’ll be fine.”

Bobby observes Hanbin as he shucks his sweater, then his shirt, then his pants and boxers, all as fast as he can to avoid making the situation any weirder than it already is. His nakedness normally wouldn’t be so strange, he tells himself, since everyone in the dorm has seen each other without clothes a million times, and Hanbin and Bobby especially are used to it as roommates; but there’s an undeniable difference to this interaction that makes Hanbin unusually shy. 

“You have to prep someone before you fuck them,” Hanbin explains. He reaches under his pillow for the bottle of lube he’d stashed there earlier, when he’d had at least a little presence of mind to be prepared.

“You’ve fingered a girl before, right?” Bobby nods quickly. “Well, it’s kind of like that,” Hanbin explains shakily, “but with a lot more lube.”

He uncaps the bottle. When nothing is forthcoming from the older, Hanbin pulls one of Bobby’s hands forward and pours a bit of the liquid onto it. 

“Warm it up on your fingers first,” Hanbin says. “Amateur mistake, keeping it cool.”

Bobby rubs his fingers together, then looks to Hanbin expectantly.

“Okay,” Hanbin starts, “you, uh, you gotta take it slow. Before you go doing anything, let the other person know what you’re thinking.” He tries not to dwell on how the ‘other person’ in this example is himself. His face on fire, he takes Bobby’s hand again and guides it to his hole. 

Bobby gasps when his slick fingers touch the skin there. 

“So, um, just press there first,” Hanbin instructs. 

Bobby’s fingers move inquisitively, curiosity written plainly on his face. 

“Um, circle around that area,” Hanbin suggests.

Bobby does. He’s clearly unpracticed, but careful. “You have to be patient,” Hanbin continues, partly to distract himself. “You have to keep checking in. Don’t rush it. When everyone’s ready, you start.”

“Are you ready?” Bobby asks immediately.

“Yes,” Hanbin says, “but you can feel if someone’s ready too.” 

This only confuses Bobby. So Hanbin maneuvers Bobby’s hand so that it presses against Hanbin’s entrance in just the right way to make him clench. 

Bobby’s hand jerks, and his mouth drops open.

“That means ready,” Hanbin says, a little flustered.

Bobby remains stunned. 

Well, something tells Hanbin that Bobby was going to need a lot of direction with the next step anyway, so Hanbin helps; he positions Bobby’s index finger at his hole, and hitches his leg up on Bobby’s for better access, though the other barely seems to notice.

“Ready?” Hanbin asks. 

Bobby nods, though he still looks like his world’s been turned upside-down.

“Start with one.” He guides Bobby’s slick finger to push gently at his opening. Bobby’s mouth drops open even further. 

Overcome with nervousness, Hanbin presses Bobby’s finger in, past the first knuckle. It’s been awhile since Hanbin’s done something like this, and the feeling is sort of foreign.

“And you move,” Hanbin prompts. 

Bobby snaps to attention. 

He begins to move his finger, and it’s interesting; he seems to be adjusting to the feeling as much as Hanbin is. 

After maybe a minute, Hanbin tells him, “You can add a second.” When Bobby seems hesitant, Hanbin helps Bobby press his middle finger in alongside the first. His hand shakes in Hanbin’s hold.

“Does it hurt?” Bobby whispers. 

“Kind of,” Hanbin says. “It’ll be fine. Just stay slow.”

“Slow,” Bobby repeats. Hanbin feels like, if Bobby had a notebook, he would be writing all this down. He pulls and pushes his fingers cautiously, watching Hanbin’s face for reactions. 

“Three,” Hanbin instructs. Bobby repeats the steps from before, adding another finger and moving them together a little faster. Hanbin tries to relax into the sensation. It’s not that it’s painful, it’s just that he’s anxious too and it’s kind of getting in the way of him enjoying himself.

Bobby’s fingers brush against Hanbin’s prostate, a rather important factor in all of this that Hanbin had forgotten about, and he jolts forward, nearly knocking his forehead against Bobby’s.

“Whoa,” Bobby says, alarmed, “what was that?”

“Prostate,” Hanbin gasps.

“Good or bad?”

“Really good,” Hanbin breathes.

Bobby takes this information as his next instruction, and begins to aim for the spot with determination, thrusting three fingers carefully and pointedly against it.

_“Ah,”_ Hanbin gasps, and quickly he feels himself getting hard, his body shocked into arousal. Bobby’s got a look like he’s on a mission, and with each thrust Hanbin feels sparks sweep through his core and out to his limbs, all the way to the tips of his toes and fingers. His cock hardens and starts leaking, and the stimulation almost turns into overstimulation. “Not so much,” he tells Bobby. 

Bobby hears him, and lets up, but he’s already worked Hanbin up so much that even gentler touches are keeping him close to the edge.

“Stop stop stop,” Hanbin pants, latching a hand onto Bobby’s wrist. 

Bobby halts. “Am I hurting you?” he asks, worried.

“No, no,” Hanbin says. “No, it’s just-- I’m gonna come.”

Bobby’s eyes widen. He looks down and notices Hanbin’s erection for the first time. He looks back up. 

“Just from this?” he asks Hanbin, astonished.

Hanbin nods. 

Bobby absorbs this information as Hanbin takes a deep breath and tries to steady himself.

“Don’t you...want to?” Bobby asks. Then he adds, “I want to see you...” He looks down to Hanbin’s straining cock. 

Hanbin gets the message. His cheeks flush pink. Distantly, he thinks that they’ve really got to work on their pillow talk.

“Okay,” he agrees. Coming sounds like a great idea right now, and Bobby watching it feels...hot. “But,” he can’t look Bobby in the eye as he says it, “I might get...loud.”

Bobby seems super taken aback at this-- then, unexpectedly, eager.

“Go ahead,” Hanbin says, moving his hand from Bobby’s wrist and reaching to fist the sheets. If his orgasm is going to be anywhere near as intense as the sensations leading up to it, he should probably hold onto something.

Bobby returns to thrusting, and it rapidly ramps Hanbin back up again, pushing him along quickly. It lacks elegance but it feels _amazing,_ like something Hanbin has needed very badly, and he turns his face into the mattress, trying ahead of time to subdue his noises.

When Bobby touches inside him in just the right way, Hanbin involuntarily lets out a moan, a sound mostly soaked up by the sheets but received loud and clear by Bobby, who presses insistently back at that spot the same way again, and again, and _again,_ and _hard_ that third time, and Hanbin releases a much louder noise and tumbles headfirst into climax. 

Hanbin’s orgasm flashes hot through his body, his cock jerking as he comes onto the sheets. Every part of him moves through it. He’s remotely aware of Bobby’s forehead resting on Hanbin’s shoulder, poised to view Hanbin’s cock as he comes.

Hanbin lets his last, quiet moan out into the bed below him, then tries to turn carefully so he doesn’t jostle Bobby’s head where it lays on his shoulder. 

Bobby looks up at the movement. He makes a face like he’s just seen the most unbelievable thing in the world.

“Jesus,” he says.

Hanbin’s too winded to say anything, so he nods. 

He helps slide Bobby’s fingers out, and fishes around on the desk beside his bed for a tissue, which Bobby mechanically wipes his hand on, then throws to the floor.

“Jesus,” Bobby repeats. Hanbin rearranges himself so he’s not turned so far into the mattress, and lays on his side, facing Bobby, to catch his breath.

“Jesus,” Bobby says a third time, “I can’t believe I did that.”

Hanbin looks to him, suddenly struck with fear that he means, _I can’t believe I just made the huge mistake of doing that with you._

But Bobby’s not looking at Hanbin; he’s looking at his hands. His expression is incredulous. 

“I can’t believe I made you come just with my fingers,” he says.

Oh. “Well, you did,” Hanbin says pathetically.

“That’s amazing.” Bobby looks to Hanbin. “And I can’t believe...and you were...whoa.”

Hanbin cringes. “Thanks...?”

“Wow, I mean,” Bobby continues. “That was just. Man. You were just, like, incredible.”

Hanbin tries to hide his blush. “I didn’t really do anything,” he confesses.

Bobby looks at Hanbin like he’s got three heads, then goes back to examining his hands, curling and uncurling his fingers. 

“Fuck,” he says, “I’m so turned on right now.”

Surprised, Hanbin looks down and, indeed, the crotch of Bobby’s pants are tented by his erection. 

And, well, it makes sense that Bobby would be aroused. He did just finger someone to orgasm. But some part of Hanbin apparently didn’t expect that-- was thinking maybe Hanbin would come and Bobby would make some objective observations and they’d just leave it there. Or worse, he would ditch Hanbin partway through the process, with the polite explanation that dude-on-dude fucking was not really his cup of tea.

“Should I...” Hanbin gestures towards Bobby’s groin. “I can...I mean, I don’t want to be weird...”

Bobby’s brow furrows. “What’s weird?”

“I mean, if you wanted,” Hanbin says, but it sounds strange aloud. “We just-- you know, maybe you’re not ready for...you know.” He gestures again at Bobby’s crotch.

Bobby says, “Are you asking to get me off?” 

“Yes,” Hanbin admits, embarassed.

“Oh.” Bobby considers this, looking unsure. “I mean, if you want to.”

Hanbin knows he means it; he only wants Hanbin to get him off if he’s really interested in doing it. There’s no rules here; they haven’t agreed to anything, haven’t said who should do what and when. 

Hanbin could leave their interaction where it is. He could just say, _that’s it, hope you enjoyed your education,_ and walk away. They could move on with their lives.

Or, he could be really honest and say, _look, I could blow you or give you a handjob or whatever right now, but it probably won’t be dramatically different from any other blowjob you’ve gotten just because I’m a guy, and I shouldn’t let you think that I’ve got some magic blow job powers as a dude anyway, so maybe we should just quit while we’re ahead._

But. 

But, truthfully, Hanbin wants Bobby to hold onto that thought that there’s something special about what they could be doing together-- that there’s something special about _Hanbin._ He wants Bobby to feel like Hanbin can give him something different than anyone else in the world. It’s not true, and it’s probably massively selfish and at least a little bit deceitful to let Bobby believe it.

It’s wrong, Hanbin knows. But that doesn’t stop him.

So, Hanbin slides down the bed, and gives Bobby the best fucking blowjob he’s ever given in his life.

For this, Hanbin pulls out all the stops. He begins by undoing Bobby’s pants, but only the pants; he doesn’t remove his boxers. Instead, he mouths at the outline of his cock through his underwear, sucking and scraping his teeth gently over the head. Bobby gasps, his hips jumping. 

Hanbin rubs his face against his clothed erection wantonly, his desire to make this as good as possible erasing any shame. He continues licking until there’s a wet spot on the front of Bobby’s boxers and he has to hold Bobby’s hips down to keep him still. 

_”Fuck,_ Bin,” Bobby pants. 

Hanbin slides Bobby’s pants and boxers both down his thighs, and licks a long stripe from the base to the tip of his exposed cock, then sucks just the head into his mouth. Bobby inhales sharply and more precome leaks onto Hanbin’s tongue. Hanbin lingers there, tonguing the slit and leaving kitten licks around the tip, for so long that when Hanbin pulls off, Bobby’s cock is flushed a deep red.

He feels Bobby’s legs shaking, hears Bobby whimpering above him; so Hanbin switches gears, slows down, moves to sucks bruises onto the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. 

Bobby whines, and Hanbin feels a spark of pride. He wants Bobby to feel absolutely desperate to come-- he wants Bobby to _beg_ Hanbin. 

When he returns to Bobby’s cock, he mouths at the head again, sucks at his balls, licks up the length, but never quite gives him what he wants. Bobby’s getting close to begging, needing to just be touched just that little bit much more. He keeps repeating Hanbin’s name, and his hands move from the sheets into Hanbin’s hair, pulling. Just to draw it out longer, Hanbin pillows his head on one of Bobby’s thighs and skims his fingers lightly up and down Bobby’s cock, as slowly as he can. 

When Bobby releases a helpless sound somewhere between a sob and a groan, Hanbin finally lets up, and moves to take all of Bobby in his mouth.

Bobby exhales like he’s been holding his breath, his fingers loosening in Hanbin’s hair. But it’s only after another moment that Hanbin pulls his mouth off and blows onto the wet skin of his cock, smiling when Bobby’s hips twitch. Hanbin removes his forearm from where it holds Bobby’s hips down and waiting until Bobby raises his head and makes eye contact. 

When he does, Hanbin can see that Bobby’s expression is totally lost.

“Fuck my mouth,” he tells Bobby, then swallows him down again.

Bobby moans and tangles his fingers back in Hanbin’s hair. His hips quickly snap up, back arching up off the bed spectacularly, cock hitting the back of Hanbin’s throat. Hanbin keeps his head down and does his best to breathe through his nose, soaking into the sensation of Bobby reaching his limit. 

It takes less than a minute of Bobby thrusting into Hanbin’s mouth for him to cry out loudly and come, his cock pulsing against Hanbin’s tongue.

Hanbin gives Bobby a second before sliding off, careful of his oversensitivity. When he props himself up on his elbows, he sees Bobby in a daze, staring at the ceiling and catching his breath. 

Hanbin isn’t sure if it’s appropriate to lay back back down next to him, worries that it’s too intimate, so instead he leans back against the wall that the bed is pushed up against.

“Damn,” Bobby finally says.

“Yeah,” Hanbin agrees.

“You are good at that,” Bobby says, wiping sweat from his own face.

“Thank you,” Hanbin says.

Maybe this is it. Maybe this is where they just stop. Hanbin has no idea. He thinks he might be too scared to ask.

Bobby finally gets his breath back and fixes his pants, tucking himself back in and re-doing the zipper. Then he looks to Hanbin, his expression strangely self-conscious.

“And that’s just the basic stuff?” he asks. 

There’s a note of hope in his voice. Hanbin hopes he’s hearing it correctly.

“That’s not even a fraction of the basics,” he jokes cautiously, and Bobby gives him a huge, happy smile.

So they’re not just going to stop.

\--

As Hanbin’s fixing his hair in the bathroom mirror the next morning, Bobby crowds in beside him to brush his teeth.

Immediately, Hanbin is flooded by nervousness. Is it going to be awkward? Do they have to put on some kind of front with the members? Do they have to _talk?_

Bobby, though, doesn’t seem awkward at all. At first, Hanbin wonders if he’s acting; and then he realizes that Bobby’s just behaving like he always does. Regular Bobby does stuff like getting all up in Hanbin’s space so he can get ready in the morning. So, there’s no reason for them to behave differently.

Still, anxiety pushes Hanbin to speak. 

“Hey,” he says quietly. “Let’s not tell anyone.”

Bobby turns and looks at him. 

“Of course,” he says through the toothpaste, but Hanbin can’t read his tone.

“We gotta GO!” Donghyuk calls from across the dorm, and Bobby and Hanbin snap to attention and finish up, then exit the bathroom.

\--

Hanbin gets a better picture of how the group is dealing with his accidental disclosure once they’re all packed into the van, heading to official group stuff. And, it’s not awful. Not unbearable. Just...not ideal. 

It’s been years since they had such a collectively awkward moment, with something unspoken hanging in the air between them like this. Hanbin thinks back to the first time they all rode in a van together after officially becoming a group. There was this sudden silence as they sat there, letting it sink in that they were going to be idols, for real. That was around the same level of awkward.

But everyone still talks to him, everyone listens to him. No one runs away screaming. So, it’ll be fine. Hanbin trusts what Bobby said; it’ll be fine.

\--

Two nights later, Bobby outright asks Hanbin if he can finger him again.

Hanbin, who’s leaning under his desk to plug in his phone charger, is surprised so badly that he jolts up and slams his head on the desk’s underside.

“Oh my god!” comes Bobby’s voice. “Are you okay?”

_”Fine,”_ Hanbin calls back, cradling his head. “Ah, _fuck.”_

When he crawls out from under the desk, Bobby is waiting there with a look of concern.

“Are you alright?” he repeats, reaching for Hanbin. 

_Real sexy,_ Hanbin thinks as the older makes sure Hanbin isn’t bleeding. 

“That was my fault,” Bobby says. “I shouldn’t have surprised you.”

“I’m fine,” Hanbin cuts in, trying to move forward with his life. “The answer is yes.”

“Yes?” Bobby asks, distracted.

“Yes, to-- the sex thing,” Hanbin repeats, embarassing himself further.

Bobby pulls away and looks at Hanbin skeptically. “I’m not sure if people who say ‘the sex thing’ should be _doing_ the sex thing.”

“Ha ha,” Hanbin deadpans. _“The sex thing,_ yes or no?”

\--

“Okay,” Hanbin begins, ready to instruct Bobby a second time around.

But Bobby speaks first. “I got this,” he says, tone confident.

Hanbin raises an eyebrow.

“I looked it up,” Bobby says, with a dorkily proud smile. 

And, yeah, it’s unbearably endearing. Trust Bobby to commit to something and do his research, including if that something is having sex with another man.

“I see. Now that you have the internet, you don’t need me anymore?” It’s a joke, but Hanbin is uncomfortably aware of the layer of desperation in his own voice. Trust Hanbin to ruin a sexy moment with a bout of awkward neediness.

“No, loser,” Bobby tells him, exasperated and fond. “No way I wouldn’t need you.”

“Right,” Hanbin says, embarassed. He decides to just ignore the exchange. “Well. Show me what you learned.”

Bobby does. He immediately moves with more finesse than last time, taking care as he circles Hanbin’s hole. He’s still clumsy when he pushes his fingers in-- Hanbin knows that part takes some practice-- but once he gets going, his fingers are gentle and steady, the stretch barely stinging. Bobby makes a funny face as he does it, like he’s navigating some map in his mind, which Hanbin doesn’t doubt.

“You learn quickly,” Hanbin jokes a little breathily, feeling himself harden at Bobby’s touches. 

Bobby breaks from his concentration to beam at him, and Hanbin almost has to look away, the look is so bright. Then Bobby returns to his mental map.

“Just you wait,” he mutters, looking like he’s thinking to himself.

In the next moment, Bobby locates his prostate, and Hanbin gasps.

“Is that it?” Bobby asks.

Hanbin nods.

Bobby starts to stroke that spot, but he’s not nearly so rushed and direct as he was last time. In fact, he _teases_ Hanbin’s prostate, skimming the pads of his finges over the spot again and again until Hanbin’s squirming.

“Feels good?” Bobby checks.

Hanbin nods again. 

Bobby smirks. “I looked it up,” he says. “Not all guys can do that.”

“Do what?” Hanbin says, barely able to focus on the conversation.

“Come just from being fingered.” 

“Oh, right,” Hanbin pants. At the next stroke of his prostate, Hanbin muffles himself by biting down on his fist. Bobby presses harder, watching Hanbin closely, and Hanbin arches forward.

“You’re so sensitive,” Bobby says, awed, and Hanbin hides a bit at that. 

A moment later, though, he catches an expression of curiosity on Bobby’s face. He’s looking down between their bodies. Then, to Hanbin’s surprise, his other hand is on Hanbin’s cock. 

His grasp is tentative and haphazard, but then Bobby finds a grip. It’s sort of graceless and there’s not really a rhythm, but on top of everything Hanbin’s already feeling, it’s just enough to push him over the edge.

Hanbin gasps as he climaxes, overwhelmed. He rocks forward into a tight grip, then back onto Bobby’s fingers. His cum gets onto Bobby’s hand, but it doesn’t seem to phase the older. Bobby keeps both of his hands moving through the entire thing, chasing Hanbin with his touch.

When Hanbin recovers, Bobby is looking at him with that same amazement as last time.

“Damn,” Bobby says.

Hanbin makes a muted sound of agreement.

“You can move,” he tells Bobby a second later, meaning Bobby’s fingers still inside him.

Bobby becomes sheepish. 

“I don’t want to move them,” he admits. “I-- I like how it feels. If you don’t mind,” he tacks on hurriedly.

“Oh,” Hanbin says. It’s not what he expected-- shouldn’t Bobby be bothered by something like that? But he looks so earnest, almost nervous waiting for Hanbin’s response. And, well, it’s not like it bothers Hanbin. It’s not uncomfortable. It’s actually kind of a welcome pressure.

“Okay,” Hanbin says. “But not too long or I won’t walk tomorrow.”

Bobby nods.

They lay there for a while, Hanbin doesn’t know how long, and Hanbin finds himself feeling pretty content.

When he notices Bobby’s arousal, though, he clears his throat. 

“And, uh, you could let me know if you want me to get you off too,” he adds.

That gets Bobby’s attention.

They move around a bit and Bobby moves his fingers from Hanbin, and Hanbin does his pants back up-- it just seems to weird to have them undone-- while Bobby finds a tissue on the desk and wipes his hands off. Deciding that he’ll clean himself up after, Hanbin begins a very un-seductive handjob tutorial.

Though, it doesn’t turn out as awkward as Hanbin predicts. Even though they had just done this the other day, it’s still strange, of course, to take Bobby out of his pants and to touch him. But when Hanbin finds him straining, stiff and leaking, and grasps him, and Bobby curses, Hanbin’s suddenly too focused on the situation to worry about anything else.

“Since it’s backwards,” Hanbin explains, strangely out of breath as he strokes Bobby, as if _Hanbin’s_ the one being stimulated, “it can take some getting used to.” Bobby nods. “Unless you do this.” Hanbin removes his hand then flips his grip, so that his thumb and index finger make a ring at the base of Bobby’s cock, and then pulls his palm back _up_ to stroke him.

Bobby whines and pushes up into Hanbin’s hand, and Hanbin feels that satisfaction, just like the other day, of undoing Bobby like this. Hanbin adds a second hand and cups Bobby’s balls, then presses his thumb into the slit of his cock. He feels so hot in Hanbin’s hands, and looks so blissed-out at Hanbin’s touches.

When Hanbin moves to use both hands to stroke him, Bobby comes with a choked-off noise. Hanbin squeezes him tighter through it, and finds himself getting caught up in it too, almost moaning at the needy sounds Bobby makes. 

Bobby catches his breath and Hanbin carefully moves his hands away.

Hanbin compliments, “You were really good.”

“I was really good...at getting a handjob?” Bobby pants.

Hanbin stifles a laugh. “You were really good with, uh, what you did for me.” His ears burn.

Bobby smiles. “Oh. Thanks.” He gestures down at himself. “Obviously you were great too.”

Hanbin nods.

“Hey,” Bobby pipes up suddenly. “Why do you do that thing--“ he puts his fist in front of his mouth, and looks to Hanbin questioningly.

Hanbin’s brow furrows.

“Like, when you’re...during,” Bobby elaborates, making the move again, and Hanbin realizes he’s mimicking the younger when he muffles himself from moaning.

“Oh.” Hanbin fidgets. “Um, I don’t want to be too loud. Like I...like I said.”

Bobby eyes him, and Hanbin wonders what he’s thinking. 

“Okay,” Bobby finally says, accepting this. “But, you know,” he tacks on, “I don’t think it would be so bad for you to be loud.”

Hanbin doesn’t know what to say, so he just goes with, “I’m gonna take a shower,” and subtly flees.

\--

Hanbin feels like things with the group must’ve improved if the members are willing to make jokes about sex in front of him. 

Such a moment occurs at lunch, when Jinhwan puts something on Junhoe’s plate that, apparently, the younger isn’t interested in.

“I don’t want it,” he whines, trying to give the food back to Jinhwan, who ignores him. “Hey! Take it back. I don’t like this.”

Jinhwan scowls at him. “You’ve never even tried it, you big baby.”

“I already know I don’t like it,” Junhoe insists.

“Well, before you put it back on my plate, you have to try it.”

“I’m not putting that in my _mouth,”_ Junhoe says, offended.

“Then I don’t know, just _lick it,”_ Jinhwan says, exasperated.

By the time he catches himself and stills, it’s too late.

The table explodes. “Just lick it!” Donghyuk croons, as the rest burst into laughter. Junhoe and Jinhwan are both frozen, cheeks red. “Just _lick_ it,” Donghyuk repeats, this time sensually, and Chanwoo almost falls over from laughing.

“I mean, don’t _just_ lick it,” Yunhyeong teases, and Chanwoo laughs so hard his face turns red.

“Hyung, hyung, hyung,” Bobby, with mock seriousness, catches Jinhwan’s attention. Bobby leans forward, and Jinhwan and Junhoe both watch him with twin mortified expressions. 

“You have to let June-yah know,” Bobby advises, “that he can just lick it _now,_ but he has to put the whole thing in his mouth eventually.”

Hanbin’s so caught off guard that he laughs, loud enough to surprise even himself.

Everyone looks to Hanbin at the sound, and they all seem to remember the awkwardness that had been following them around before. 

And then everyone seems to let it go, returning to taunting Junhoe and Jinhwan.

Hanbin releases a breath, and lets himself join in laughing with the group.  
\--

Predictably, the teasing continues for the entire day. By the time they get to vocal practice in the afternoon, Junhoe has pulled up his hood in an attempt to stay hidden in plain sight, and Jinhwan’s hands have found a new home covering his face. 

“That might be the funniest thing that’s ever happened in my life,” Bobby tells Hanbin when they’re back in their room that evening. Hanbin’s trying to clean up, but Bobby isn’t even pretending to be productive, flopping onto Hanbin’s bed and laying back. “Just lick it!” he crows, in a high-pitched voice that’s apparently an imitation of Jinhwan, and Hanbin laughs.

“Who’d’a thunk,” Bobby muses. “Just licking.”

“Everyone has their stuff,” Hanbin muses distractedly, folding together two socks which he isn’t actually sure are a pair. 

“Oh yeah?” Bobby asks. He shoves at Hanbin’s leg with his foot. Hanbin turns around and sees Bobby’s expression, caught between amusement and intensity. “What’s yours?”

Taken aback, Hanbin laughs awkwardly. “What’s _yours?”_

“I’m serious,” Bobby says.

Hanbin’s surprised by his sincerity. He puts down the sock he’s holding and sits on the bed opposite Bobby. Bobby sits up too. 

“You don’t know, I could have a million,” Hanbin jokes, but it’s obviously a delay tactic.

Bobby waits.

Hanbin clears his throat. Decides to give it a try.

“I-- I always like when someone sits behind me, you know, up against me.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he hears how ridiculous they sound and wishes he could take them back.

But Bobby doesn’t laugh; instead, he shifts, sliding over on the bed so that Hanbin’s back is pressed up against his front. Hanbin shivers at the sensation. 

“Like this?” Bobby asks.

Hanbin nods. “Yeah.”

“Closer?” Bobby says, pressing his chest snug against Hanbin’s back and wrapping his arms around Hanbin’s middle. Hanbin shivers again; the feeling of having his fantasy enacted in real life, just seconds after disclosing it, he finds, is not quite something he’s prepared for.

“What else?” Bobby asks. His breath is warm on Hanbin’s neck.

“Uh.” Hanbin squirms. The movement inadvertently draws attention to his already embarassing level of arousal. 

Bobby must notice, because he says, “Oh,” and then reaches down Hanbin’s front, headed straight for his crotch.

Hanbin jolts. “You don’t have to,” he rushes out, inexplicably beginning to panic. “It’s okay, you don’t have to.” 

Bobby stops, his palm resting on Hanbin’s abs. “You okay?”

“You don’t have to,” Hanbin repeats. 

“I want to,” Bobby says.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hanbin insists.

Bobby exhales against Hanbin’s neck. 

“Hanbin,” he says, “what the hell keeps making you thinking that I don’t want to do this?”

That shuts Hanbin up.

“Why do you think I’m gonna back out?” Bobby huffs. “I’m the one who asked for this. Right?”

Hanbin nods, suddenly ashamed. Bobby’s right; they agreed to this, and Hanbin’s pushing him away, for no good reason at all.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. 

Bobby exhales against Hanbin’s neck again. “No, don’t apologize. But jesus, don’t do this if you don’t want to.” 

“I do,” Hanbin tells him quietly. “I want to.”

Bobby locks his arms around Hanbin’s middle again, rocking them back and forth slightly, though Hanbin’s not sure if he realizes that’s what he’s doing. He can almost feel Bobby thinking through where they touch. 

Hanbin takes a deep breath, trying not to overthink everything like he always does.

“This is basically a step away from lap-sitting,” Bobby observes, breaking the tension.

“It is _not,”_ Hanbin insists. Bobby laughs against his neck. 

“It totally is,” Bobby says. “Didn’t know you were a lap-sitter.”

Hanbin slaps at one of Bobby’s hands resting over his middle. “Shut up.”

“Maybe you should just sit in my lap,” Bobby teases.

“You wish,” Hanbin retorts. 

As the visual of that pops into Hanbin’s head, Bobby seems to take a second to imagine it as well, since they both pause, and Hanbin feels Bobby stiffen against him.

“Hey,” Bobby says, lowering his voice and getting them back on track. “Tell me what you like about this.” He tightens his arms around Hanbin’s middle just the smallest amount, a reminder of how they’re positioned.

There’s Hanbin’s embarassment again, flooding his cheeks. He wonders where the Hanbin of not so long ago, the guy who blew Bobby senseless like a fucking pro, has gone.

“Um, when you talk I can feel it,” he says, trying to get some courage and cut the habit of speaking about them fucking in the third person. 

Bobby tucks his face into the crook of Hanbin’s neck. “I see,” he murmurs, his voice reverberating through Hanbin. Hanbin lets his eyes fall shut and drops his head back onto Bobby’s shoulder. 

“What kind of talking?” Bobby asks.

“Whatever you want,” Hanbin whispers.

“Whatever _you_ want,” Bobby says, mouthing at his neck.

But Hanbin doesn’t have it in him to say. So Bobby continues, “Then let’s try this.” His voice is low against Hanbin’s cheek. “I can’t wait to touch you.”

Hanbin must very obviously react, because Bobby reacts too.

“Alright,” Bobby breathes, sounding accomplished. Hanbin feels Bobby reach down his front again. Hanbin bites his lip, too scared to open his eyes. He thinks Bobby might sense his nervousness, because he distracts Hanbin by asking, “How do you feel when I sit behind you like this?”

Hanbin’s voice is shaky as Bobby pulls his cock out of his pants and starts stroking him. “Safe,” he admits.

Bobby seems comfortable touching Hanbin in this position. Hanbin supposes it’s not very different from jerking off. Indeed, the older doesn’t seem to need any instruction. Hanbin keeps his eyes shut, melting into the ease with which Bobby handles him. 

“And?” Bobby prompts, lips tickling Hanbin’s ear.

“I’m not in control,” Hanbin pants. _For once._

“You like that?” Bobby asks, with a hint of amusement. His hand is abruptly gone from his cock, and then Hanbin hears Bobby spit into his palm. He returns to stroking, hand slick, and Hanbin keens.

“You gonna come like this?” Bobby asks him huskily.

Hanbin’s response is mostly a moan. He really can’t look now-- just the sight of Bobby’s hands on him will probably push him over the edge.

“Should’ve known you were into dirty talk,” Bobby says, pleased. “I like it.” He spits on his other palm then moves both hands to stroking Hanbin, tight and wet. “You’re gonna come for me right now, just like this,” he says. 

Surprised by his own obedience, Hanbin spills into Bobby’s fists, hips lifting off the bed. Bobby strokes him through it until Hanbin’s cum slides onto Bobby’s fingers, sliding into his grip along with the spit. Hanbin can’t see it, but can feel it and imagine it, and the thought excites Hanbin; distantly, he hopes Bobby doesn’t think that’s too gross.

“Not bad,” Bobby jokes.

“Not bad yourself,” Hanbin breathes, slightly off kilter from his orgasm. He’s never just come like that when someone told him to. 

It takes him a second to recognize that Bobby’s hard against his back. Once he feels like he can move again, Hanbin squeezes Bobby’s arm around him. Bobby lets go and Hanbin shifts, turns around on the bed to face the other. 

“Hey,” he says. “Lay down.” 

Intrigued, Bobby complies.

Hanbin searches out the lube from under the pillow, then settles at the edge of the bed and yanks Bobby’s hips forward so that he’s laid out before him. Bobby looks surprised but pleased, adjusting to the new position. 

“What’s on the menu?” he asks, grinning big.

Hanbin pauses, grimacing. “Is that a blowjob joke?” 

Bobby grins wider.

“If I did have plans to blow you,” Hanbin says, undoing Bobby’s pants and tugging down his boxers, uncovering his erection, “then I would’ve cancelled them specifically because of that joke.”

Bobby groans, laughing at his own behavior. “Fuck! What have I done?”

Hanbin pours lube into his palm and takes a hold of Bobby’s erection. Bobby’s laughter halts. But Hanbin only gives him one good stroke. Then, he wraps his fingers just below the head, positioned so the pad of his thumb presses at the sensitive spot on the underside. 

Hanbin makes a tiny circle with his thumb on that spot, relishing the way Bobby’s hips jump.

“It will just be...” Hanbin continues making circles there-- not stroking, not speeding up, just making circles, “...this.”

“Ah!” Bobby’s hips jump again. “You gotta be kidding me,” he gasps, trying to thrust into Hanbin’s hand.

“I am not.” Hanbin bars Bobby’s hips down with his arm. Bobby lets out a nervous laugh, squirming beneath him.

Hanbin focuses on making the circles; he knows it must be so overstimulating to be almost painful. Bobby quickly starts to beg, though his pleas are tinged with a slightly hysterical edge. 

_“Please.”_

Hanbin ignores him.

“Bin. _Ah!”_

Hanbin smiles.

“This is what I get,” Bobby pants, “for doing a good job? _Fuck.”_

“Patience.” Precome spurts from the slit of Bobby’s cock, sliding down to Hanbin’s fingers. He lets it join in with the slickness where his thumb moves. 

Bobby’s breaths speed up, faster and faster, as Hanbin moves slower and slower until he can feel Bobby nearly vibrating beneath him, aching to release.

Suddenly, Bobby releases a long exhale, and he comes, spurting slow and hot onto himself and Hanbin’s hand. 

Hanbin cleans them up with a corner of the bedsheet then shifts on the bed so that he’s lying beside Bobby. Bobby is basically insensate for a while, lying there and not saying anything, just blinking at the ceiling. 

It takes Bobby a while to speak. “That was some fucked up shit,” he murmurs. 

“Translation,” Hanbin responds, “‘I liked that and request that it happen again.’” 

Bobby half-heartedly thwacks him on the shoulder, and Hanbin laughs.

\--

The next day, Hanbin and Bobby catch Jinhwan struggling to figure something out on his phone before they have to leave. When Bobby says, “wait, I know!” and Jinhwan looks to him expectantly, and Bobby says gravely, “just lick it,” Jinhwan’s expression crumples, and Hanbin laughs so hard he thinks he might die.

\--

Hanbin honestly didn’t plan for anything to happen between them the next evening. 

Everything had been normal as Hanbin had gotten ready for bed. Bobby lounged in bed in his pajamas, doing something on his phone. 

When Hanbin approached Bobby, he really did just want to borrow the phone charger. And Bobby did give it to him. But when he handed it over, he also reached out and snapped the waistband of Hanbin’s boxers.

Less than two minutes later they’re on Bobby’s bed, back in Hanbin’s favorite position-- at Bobby’s insistence-- and Hanbin’s gasping in Bobby’s arms, already leaking into the other’s fist. The phone charger lies on the floor, tragically forgotten.

Bobby’s cursing into his ear, telling Hanbin how good he feels, how hard, how amazing it’ll be when he comes. Partly to muffle his moans and partly because he can’t get the idea of doing it out of his head, Hanbin grabs Bobby’s hand that’s not jerking him off and moves it to his mouth, shoving Bobby’s fingers in and sucking on them. Bobby gasps behind him.

“God,” he tells Hanbin, “you’re filthy.”

It only spurs Hanbin further; he sucks harder and lets his hips fuck up into the Bobby’s grip. He can even feel Bobby’s erection pressing against his ass as he moves. Hanbin manuevers his hips so they rub up against Bobby’s cock as well.

“Fuck,” Bobby says, gripping Hanbin’s cock tighter. _“Fuck,_ baby.”

Hanbin almost bites down on Bobby’s fingers.

Bobby must feel Hanbin’s astonishment; his movements slow, and their interaction halts. Hanbin tugs Bobby’s hand from his mouth.

“I,” Bobby says, his hand loosening on Hanbin’s cock. He sounds terrified. “I-- I’m sorry, I--“

“Again,” Hanbin cuts him off, voice unsteady. “Say...say it again.”

Bobby freezes against him. 

“Come on,” Hanbin pleads, squirming in Bobby’s hold, pushing his hips back up into Bobby’s fist.

Bobby sucks in a harsh breath and returns to stroking Hanbin. 

“Baby,” he repeats, voice tentative, but Hanbin still has to bite his lip to hold in his groan.

They work their pace back up. “Baby,” Bobby says, the word gaining heat as he repeats it. “Baby, _fuck.”_

The endearment undoes Hanbin, who lets go of any inhibitions and just fucks shamelessly Bobby’s grip. He can feel Bobby rutting against Hanbin’s back. When Bobby whispers in his ear, “Come on, baby,” that’s it.

When he comes, he feels like Bobby’s hands on him are the only thing keeping him from floating away. Bobby groans behind him, burying his nose in Hanbin’s hair Bobby’s body jerks against Hanbin’s back, and Hanbin realizes he’s coming too, and Hanbin is carried with the movement, pitching forward with the last of both of their aftershocks.

Hanbin slumps forward, and Bobby follows, panting against his shoulder.

Hanbin starts to worry about what to say, how to deal with the situation they just experienced together, but before he can even think of words, there’s inexplicably a laugh bubbling up inside him. 

Then he’s giggling, shaking, in Bobby’s arms. He tries to stop, but that only makes the laughing worse. 

But Bobby starts laughing too, shaking with him, and when Hanbin drops his head back onto Bobby’s shoulder they lock eyes and--

\--and then they’re kissing.

And then they’re kissing, almost desperately, like they need it to breathe, and Hanbin thinks to himself that he is not looking forward to the consequences of this.

\--

Hanbin spends way more time than he’d like wondering whether he and Bobby will kiss again. He wonders if it’ll happen the next time they’re alone, or the next time they’re doing something sexual. Or maybe never, and then they’ll never speak about it again. (Nevermind that they also _fucked,_ but for some reason, Hanbin’s way more worried about the kissing.)

Bobby doesn’t bring it up, or act any different from usual, the day after. Nothing happens when they’re both in their room that night, either, and Hanbin isn’t sure whether or not to be relieved. 

The next evening, though, the group finishes dinner and Bobby and Hanbin head back to their room, and the first thing Bobby does after Hanbin lays in his own bed is join him. He flops down on his stomach and stretches out like a cat beside Hanbin.

“I’m gonna miss getting to eat like that once promotions start,” Bobby tells him. “Taking our time and talking and everything.” He smiles one of those adorable, bunny-toothed smiles.

There’s an edge of nervousness to his actions that Hanbin doesn’t understand, until Bobby hesistantly scooches forward and kisses him.

Oh.

Bobby pulls back. He bites his lip, and Hanbin doesn’t want to admit how much he likes that look on Bobby. “Is that okay?”

“I...don’t think we should,” Hanbin admits. 

Bobby deflates. “Oh.”

But it’s a bad idea, right? Hanbin feels like, on top of everything else they’re doing, it’s just too much. It’s a bad idea. 

“Right?” Hanbin asks. He can still feel the imprint of Bobby’s lips on his own. 

“Yeah,” Bobby agrees. But he looks let down.

“Hey,” Hanbin says, trying to repair the situation, “you want to try something new tonight?”

That gets Bobby’s attention. “Yeah? What?”

“Here.” Hanbin pulls Bobby fully on top of him. 

He arches up so that their hips meet, and Bobby starts in surprise. 

“Basic stuff. Introductory. Beginner,” Hanbin jokes nervously. 

“Dry humping,” Bobby surmises.

“Well, when you put it like _that...”_

Bobby smiles. 

“It’ll be _super_ sexy,” Hanbin promises. Bobby huffs a laugh.

Hanbin places his hands on Bobby’s sides and pulls him forward, moving them into a rhythm of pushing against each other. Hanbin’s body starts to pay attention, his cock twitching beneath his boxers and sweatpants. Hanbin can feel the outline of Bobby hardening through his sweats, as they thrust against each other easily but slowly.

It takes almost no time for Hanbin to realize that this choice of activity, particularly the way it leaves them positioned, was a big mistake. They’re right in each other’s faces, and Bobby keeps making eye contact as he moves again Hanbin. It feels good-- it feels _great--_ but it feels really intimate, and with each thrust their mouths get nearer.

Hanbin pushes up so that Bobby’s thrust meets his perineum and slides up against his balls, and Bobby groans and bites his lip. He looks conflicted for a moment, then tucks his face against Hanbin’s neck, exhaling hotly. 

Bobby’s back is smooth and hot under Hanbin’s palms when he slides up under the hem of Bobby’s shirt. They speed up, and Hanbin lets his legs fall open so that Bobby can press closer. 

Bobby moves back to rest his forehead against Hanbin’s, so that they’re sharing air, and a moment later he stiffens against Hanbin, coming. Through all of the clothing, the feeling of his cock jerking against Hanbin’s makes Hanbin gasp, and after another minute he follows.

As they catch their breaths, Bobby lifts his forehead from Hanbin’s, just far back enough for them to make eye contact. There’s a strange pause where they just look at each other. 

And then they’re kissing again.

Bobby pulls away. “Sorry,” he pants. 

Hanbin shakes his head. 

“Sorry,” Bobby repeats, but Hanbin shakes his head again and kisses him, and Bobby kisses him back immediately, and it feels like something falling into place. Bobby slips his tongue into Hanbin’s mouth and Hanbin moans and sucks on it, and _fuck,_ they’re _kissing,_ and he knows that he probably should, but as hard as Hanbin tries, no part of him can regret it.

\--

There’s alway something giddy about getting a half-day, especially unexpectedly. Hanbin’ll never admit it, since he’s the one whose job it is to push everyone to work harder, to demand full schedules and endless practices, but he’s always secretly excited when someone else cuts their responsibilities short-- suddenly, he’s like a kid let out of school early, ready to run free.

Their interview training gets cancelled, rescheduled to the next day, so there’s a playful mood among the members as they leave the company building. The group splits: Donghyuk, Yunhyeong, and Chanwoo head out to eat and shop while Junhoe, Jihwan, Bobby, and Hanbin book it back to the dorm. 

Junhoe and Jinhwan clearly have some sort of agreement to catch up on sleep, immediately heading back to their room and shutting the door, which Hanbin can’t blame them for-- they’re not going to be resting much once recording and dance practice get underway. Meanwhile, Hanbin and Bobby volley ideas back and forth about where to go and what to do as they both change into different clothes.

“Gym,” Bobby suggests.

“I’m not going to tell you this again, hyung,” Hanbin says, pulling his shirt over his head. “We’re not going to the gym during time off. We’re supposed to be having fun.”

“Working out _is_ fun,” Bobby says earnestly as he tugs off his pants, and Hanbin has to believe that Bobby really believes that. “Besides! If we’re not getting gym clothes then why did we come back to change?”

_”Because,”_ Hanbin explains, “we were in sweats and that is not cool clothing.”

Bobby looks at Hanbin like he’s got three heads. “Why do we need cool clothing?”

“I don’t know!” Hanbin defends, stripping out of his pants. “So we can go out and be cool or something!”

At that, Bobby laughs. He yanks Hanbin forward by the arm, then pecks him on the lips. 

Hanbin kisses him back. And it starts chaste, but in a second Hanbin’s sucking on Bobby’s tongue. Bobby backs Hanbin up against the frame of Hanbin’s bed and their hips meet, hot through both pairs of underwear. 

They haphazardly relocate onto the mattress, lying down side by side, and Hanbin guides Bobby into a shaky rhythm of rubbing against each other. Bobby grips his waist tight; Hanbin wonders if his fingers will leave marks.

Unfortunately, the position isn’t the most comfortable. “Here,” Hanbin says, and he rolls onto his back, pulling Bobby along so that he lays on top. “Underwear off.” He slides off his own boxers, and Bobby follows suit. 

Bobby lays back on top of Hanbin, both of them now unclothed, cocks touching, and Hanbin urges the other’s hips forward by arching up. 

“Holy shit,” Bobby says, eyes falling shut. “Doing this naked-- this is a thing?”

“I always liked it,” Hanbin admits. Bobby begins to rut against him. 

Hanbin wraps his legs around Bobby’s hips, pulling him closer, and Bobby curses, moving faster. The friction feels good, but it’s almost too rough, the precome between them not enough to ease the slide.

“Pause,” Hanbin gasps, squeezing Bobby’s shoulder, and Bobby halts, though not without effort. 

Hanbin pulls the lube out from under his pillow-- a spot rapidly becoming its new home-- and shakily pours some onto his fingers, then strokes their cocks together. 

Immediately, Bobby’s hips buck forward, and Hanbin moans.

“Fuck,” Bobby says with a gravelly laugh. “You’re killing me.”

Hanbin resists a smile. They stay paused, and Bobby places his hand on one of Hanbin’s legs where it’s locked around his hip, running his palm up and down his thigh.

“I like this,” he murmurs. “I like it here,” he clarifies, meaning how Hanbin is wrapped around him.

And it’s silly-- it’s not like Hanbin _has_ to, or anything-- but he guides Bobby’s hand to the back of his knee, then helps a very confused Bobby bend his leg back and hook it over the older’s shoulder. 

Bobby’s confusion turns to shock and delight.

“Flexible,” he teases.

“I’m a man of many talents,” Hanbin jokes.

They un-pause, and Bobby thrusts earnestly, holding Hanbin’s leg in place over his shoulder. The slick slide of their cocks against each other and the angle Hanbin’s leg is bent at is perfect, and Bobby’s pushing against him hard enough that it’s almost painful, in a good way. For a second, as they move together, slick with sweat, Hanbin feels oddly like they’re connected. He can hear the bedframe knocking up against the wall. 

Hanbin’s hips jump as he comes, spilling onto his own stomach and both of their cocks. He scratches down Bobby’s back as he rides it out, shaking, feeling it down to his toes. Bobby responds by thrusting even faster, his grip on Hanbin’s thighs harsh. He hides his face against Hanbin’s neck, exhaling little puffs of air and mouthing there sloppily. 

Hanbin fists a hand in Bobby’s hair, pulling, and Bobby moans again and comes too. Hanbin holds him through it; Bobby makes sounds like he’s surprised by the force of his own orgasm.

Bobby looks worn out as he unhooks Hanbin’s leg from his shoulder. Hanbin runs a hand through Bobby’s hair, and Bobby pulls back, Hanbin thinks maybe to leave the bed. 

But instead he lowers his head down to rest on Hanbin’s chest, like he’s a pillow. Hanbin’s never had someone do that before. Bobby looks like he might fall asleep there.

“What’d you think?” Hanbin asks a minute later, when he can speak actual words.

Bobby grunts.

“The sex,” Hanbin prompts.

“Ten out of ten,” Bobby slurs. “Eleven out of ten. Twenty.”

Hanbin accepts that and runs his fingers back through Bobby’s hair. Bobby shuts his eyes; he doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere anytime soon. 

Hanbin could kick Bobby off-- he wasn’t planning to go to bed so early-- but he doesn’t. It’s not too uncomfortable, anyway. 

A few minutes after Bobby falls asleep, Hanbin does too.

\--

Hanbin tries to get them into a healthy rotation of activities. It becomes less awkward to undress each other, to sneak back to their room together and make sure they’re not too loud; and they get better at this or that position, learning each other’s preferences.

It’s clear throughout, though, that Bobby loves fingering him. He’s always eager to do it and takes a special kind of pride in getting Hanbin off that way. He learns to make Hanbin come with his fingers in a variety of positions and speeds, and more often than not, he leaves his fingers inside Hanbin after he comes, something that Hanbin unexpectedly comes to like. He never allows it for too long, since he knows it’ll make him ache and walk funny if he does, but he always lets Bobby for a little while.

Once, they both fall asleep after like that after fucking, two of Bobby’s fingers still inside Hanbin. Hanbin’s not sure how Bobby feels about it after they wake up and realize it, but Hanbin is surprised by how much he likes it.

Hanbin does worry though; he worries what’s going to happen when he runs out of tricks, when he doesn’t have anything more that’s special to give to Bobby. When Bobby realizes there’s nothing special about _Hanbin._ It’ll come eventually. Hanbin just tries not to think about in the meantime.

\--

They have to do well.

Recording starts in two days, and they have to do well. 

If they don’t do well in recording, then the album won’t sound good. If the album is shit, then the choreography is a waste. If the music and the choreography are both a bust, then the whole thing, their whole livelihood, is useless. Everything they’re doing will be useless. So they have to do well.

The upcoming preparations, the dance practices and vocal lessons and PR coaching, have been a low hum in the back of Hanbin’s mind since the company gave him a date for everything to start. But now that it’s really approaching, the hum has grown into a chatter, constant and intrusive. And now, in this moment when he _should_ be sleeping, it’s become a siren, unrelenting as it wails in his head.

They have to do well, Hanbin chants to himself. They have to do well.

He’s so distracted by the repetition that he doesn’t even notice Bobby entering the room until he’s actually speaking.

“Hey,” Bobby greets, smiling. He slides onto Hanbin’s mattress to sit beside him, dropping a kiss on his shoulder. “What you up to?”

Normally Hanbin wouldn’t be bothered, might even be turned on, but right now it’s the opposite. In fact, he doesn’t want to be touched at all. 

“I don’t want to fuck,” he tells Bobby brusquely.

Bobby’s taken aback, but he stays composed. “Okay,” he says. “Then we won’t fuck. Whatever you want.”

When Hanbin doesn’t say anything, Bobby tries, “Do you want to sleep? I can hit the lights.”

_”No,”_ Hanbin grits, “I don’t want to sleep.” He feels fidgety, like he has to move, but the more he fidgets, the more uncomfortable he gets.

“Alright,” Bobby says, and he’s just so fucking calm, so goddamn patient and understanding, and it’s getting under Hanbin’s skin. He can’t stand it, how _nice_ Bobby is, how careful and thoughtful he is all time, so nice to Hanbin even though he doesn’t deserve it. “Whatever you want,” Bobby repeats.

“I don’t know what I want,” Hanbin snaps, feeling panic sting the surface of his skin.

He stands from the bed and tries to cross the room, tries to just escape as something sharp starts to snap through his veins, but the more he fights the feeling the harder it pushes back against him. He begs himself not to do this now, not in front of another person, but his panic won’t obey, and the realization that he’s going to have a panic attack in front of Bobby only ratchets his agitation up, and then Hanbin’s flash-flooded with fear and dread and helplessness, his knees giving out as he gasps for air and clutches at his chest.

“Hanbin!” Bobby rushes to him as Hanbin’s knees hits the floor. 

Hanbin curls in on himself, trying to disappear into his own frame, laboring not to sink any further into jagged distress.

Bobby’s hands are on his back and sides. “Fuck, Hanbin!” 

Hanbin gulps for air, unable to speak.

“Hanbin,” Bobby pleads, “tell me what it is.” 

Hanbin gathers as much strength as he can. “Panic...attack,” he gasps.

Bobby’s hands roam Hanbin’s back as he absorbs this. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.” 

Then, he swoops an arm under Hanbin’s crouched form, bracing it against his torso, and carefully pulls Hanbin back, uncurling him so that his back rests against Bobby’s chest. The position just makes Hanbin feel more vulnerable, more exposed, until Bobby crosses his arms at Hanbin’s front and brackets Hanbin’s legs with his own and begins to speak. 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, holding Hanbin tight. “It’s going to be okay.”

Hanbin breaks; he begins bawling his eyes out, sobbing as Bobby rocks him back and forth. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Bobby repeats, and Hanbin cries harder. He’s had so many panic attacks in his life, too many to count, but only a handful have been in front of someone, and no one has _ever_ known what to do. Not once has anyone thought to hold him and tell him it was going to be okay. 

Bobby’s hands move to press down over Hanbin’s heart, and Hanbin’s sobs take on a register of relief, as the fear that his heart is going to break out of his chest dissipates.

Bobby holds Hanbin for a very long time, past the point of his heartbeat slowing down and his tears stopping.

When Hanbin eventually croaks out a “thanks,” Bobby exhales sharply.

“Oh my god,” he says, whispering like it’s a secret, “fuck, Hanbin, you scared the shit out of me. I thought you were having a heart attack. Jesus Christ.”

“It felt like a heart attack,” Hanbin mutters. It doesn’t matter how many panic attacks he has; when they hit, he’s never able to reason himself out of the feeling that he’s going to die. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you apologizing?” Bobby says. “Why are you apologizing?” His hold on Hanbin tightens. A second later, he tacks on, “Do those...happen a lot?”

Hanbin exhales. This isn’t something he wants to share with anyone in the world, and definitely not Bobby. But it feels wrong to lie about it, now that Bobby’s seen it. “Kind of.”

Bobby curses. “Fuck, Hanbin, why didn’t you tell me?”

Hanbin doesn’t say anything.

Bobby receives Hanbin’s silence unhappily. “Hanbin, what am I here for if you can’t tell me shit like this?”

It’s not funny. He knows it’s not, but Hanbin almost laughs. It’s ridiculous that Bobby would think that his job was to support Hanbin, to be the one who holds Hanbin together, when Bobby’s the one who should be at the center, the one who gets it right every time while Hanbin just tries to be good enough.

“It’s not a big deal,” Hanbin dismisses.

“Hanbin, please don’t lie to me,” Bobby says, sounding pained.

“I’ve got it under control.” It sounds weak even to Hanbin’s own ears.

Bobby sighs, which Hanbin recognizes as the sign that he’s going to let it go for the moment. “Fine,” he says.

“I’m just,” Hanbin says, “I’m just going to go to sleep.”

Bobby reluctantly moves away, letting Hanbin get up shakily and then drop into his own bed. 

For a second, Bobby looks like he’s at war with himself, caught standing in the space between their two beds. But he resolves whatever it is, and turns off the lights and gets in his own bed.

Just when it’s been long enough for Hanbin to think the other’s fallen asleep, Bobby says into the darkness, “good night.”

Hanbin says back, “Good night.” 

He still doesn’t sleep for a long time.

\--

On the first day of recording, they do well.

Seeing how skillfully, how confidently, the members sing and rap, leaves Hanbin enormously relieved, then awash with shame for having ever doubted them. Hanbin always plays this game with his anxiety: trusting no one, not even himself, to do things right, then feeling awful when everyone proves him wrong-- then feeling embarassed about his anxiety-- and the whole thing goes on and on in a terrible, self-compounding cycle.

But, he resolves, at least for today, he can relax a second. Because everyone did well. Once again, he can remind himself that there wasn’t really anything to worry about.

“See? There was nothing to worry about,” Bobby tells him, like he can read Hanbin’s mind, as he passes by in the studio. 

Hanbin pretends to ignore him.

\--

After several more successful days of recording, they all deserve a celebration. 

After they’re set free on Friday evening, the group heads out to a nearby club to drink and mess around, inventing dance moves that would horrify their choreographer. Even Hanbin lets go a bit. By the point that he thinks to check the time so that they don’t get in trouble for being out too late, it’s nearly 2 am.

Hanbin corrals them all back to the dorm, which is a slight challenge in the face of how drunk everyone is, Hanbin included. But at least they’re all happily drunk, so it could be worse. 

Once they’re home, Junhoe and Jinhwan quickly return to their room, while Donghyuk and Yunhyeong look through kitchen cabinets for food. Chanwoo, tragically, doesn’t even make it back to his bed; Hanbin catches sight of him passed out on one of the living room couches, face buried in a cushion. 

After jointly ensuring that no one is going to start a fire in the kitchen, Hanbin and Bobby usher each down the hall and into their room, trying not to be too loud. Hanbin doesn’t think they’re succeeding, but then he remembers something.

“Hyung,” Hanbin whispers loudly. “Hyung!” He shakes Bobby’s arms as the older closes the door to their room. “We don’t have to be quiet. _Everyone else is drunk too!”_

Bobby leans in close. “Then why are we still whispering?”

Hanbin breaks into uproarious laughter, and Bobby joins in, giggling and clutching at Hanbin to keep upright.

As their laughter calms, Bobby crowds into Hanbin’s space and plants a messy kiss on his neck. “Can I get some of this?” he asks cheekily, reaching around to grab Hanbin’s ass. 

Hanbin slaps at his hands, feigning offense, but shuffles them across the room anyway until they fall into Bobby’s bed. 

Immediately, Bobby pins Hanbin down and tickles him. He looks delighted as Hanbin squeals and giggles-- Hanbin only really tolerates tickling when he’s had a few drinks-- until Hanbin squirms to get away and hits his head against the wall.

At the loud _thunk,_ Bobby gasps in surprise. 

Hanbin screws his eyes shut. 

“Owwwww,” he whines.

“Ohhhh,” Bobby coos, reaching up and cradling Hanbin’s head. “I’m sorry, baby.” He cranes his neck to kiss at the injured spot. Hanbin pouts and lets himself be coddled.

When Bobby speaks up again, some while later, he sounds sheepish. “Can we still fuck?”

“Hyung!” Hanbin’s shocked into a laugh. “Jesus! Okay. Yes.”

\--

Maybe it’s because they’ve both had a few drinks, or maybe it’s their shared exhaustion from the day’s celebrations, but tonight, something seems different. Tonight, they undress and lay down and press close, and it feels like time stretches out further and further until Hanbin and Bobby are moving against each other in a hot and achingly slow slide. 

Face tucked into the crook of Hanbin’s neck, Bobby’s thrusting against Hanbin _so_ slowly that it makes Hanbin want to scream, and it feels like they keep slowing down, slower and slower, until it’s too much and too little all at once.

“Hey,” Hanbin pants. He lifts a hand to grasp at Bobby’s hair, to direct the other’s gaze down between their bodies. “Look.”

Bobby drops his sweaty forehead onto Hanbin’s shoulder. When he looks, he makes an overwhelmed sound. “Bin,” he whines. 

Hanbin looks down too, and sees their cocks trapped between their bodies, wet and flushed and leaking, sliding together. Hanbin turns and presses a kiss to Bobby’s damp hair; Bobby groans.

Hanbin moves his hand from Bobby’s back to fumble under the pillow until he finds the bottle stashed there. He pries one of Bobby’s hands from his waist and pours lube, probably way too much, onto it. 

Bobby’s hand shakes as he lowers his hand to their cocks and strokes them together, slick and firm. Bobby releases a sob; Hanbin keens and arches into the touch. 

Keeping a tight grip on the both of them, Bobby shifts up the bed. Hanbin doesn’t realize what Bobby’s doing until he’s kissing Hanbin, feverish through their shared buzz, urging Hanbin’s tongue into his mouth and sucking on it. 

At that, Hanbin comes, hips jumping, entire body rocking forward. Bobby squeezes them both through it until he comes as well, moaning helplessly around Hanbin’s tongue.

Hanbin catches his breath and waits for Bobby to collapse on top of him and fall asleep. But he doesn’t-- instead, still panting harshly, he slides down Hanbin’s body and licks at the mingled cum on his torso. 

Hanbin jerks in surprise. Bobby keeps moving, shifts over to suck a hickey onto Hanbin’s hip, following the sharp sensation with a soothing kiss. When he looks up and meets Hanbin’s eyes, tongue still laving Hanbin’s skin, his gaze is burning, hazy and heavy with something that punches the breath out of Hanbin all over again. 

He feels his spent cock twitch, feels blood rushing back to his groin in near-overstimulation. Hanbin reaches down to push Bobby’s damp bangs off of his forehead, and Bobby angles his head to kiss at Hanbin’s palm. Then, he slides a hand up between Hanbin’s legs and teases at his entrance.

Hanbin inhales sharply, surprised a second time. Bobby’s eyes flick up again, and when he catches Hanbin’s assent, he pushes back one of Hanbin’s legs for easier access. His hand still slick from jerking them both off, he slides in the tip of a finger, punching a choked-off sound out of Hanbin.

Rapidly, one finger becomes two, becomes three, and Bobby locates Hanbin’s prostate and strokes it directly, relentlessly, without relief. 

_”Hyung,”_ Hanbin whimpers. He’s already hard again, precome dribbling onto his stomach. 

“Again,” Bobby murmurs against Hanbin’s hip, pressing his fingers in and in and in.

Hanbin squirms, caught between trying to escape the touch and pushing back into it. He’s so strung out, already spent and still drunk. “I can’t,” he pleads, “hyung, I can’t--“

They’ve never done something like this, Bobby’s never tried to get him to come twice in a row. The sensation is too much; Hanbin feels tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. He feels like he’s about to snap. 

“You can,” Bobby says. 

A fourth finger presses at Hanbin’s hole, pushing in alongside the other three. On the next thrust, Bobby slides it in, and it’s so much and so hot and so tight, a sweet, burning pressure filling Hanbin up, and with a shock, he comes again. 

Tears roll down Hanbin’s cheeks as he spills, and Bobby’s fingers chase him as he arches up off the bed, thrusting into Hanbin insistently through it. Bobby continues until there’s nothing left and Hanbin’s hips drop back down on the mattress. 

Bobby pulls himself up the bed. Hanbin turns his face into the pillow, overwhelmed and shying away, but Bobby nuzzles at him, coaxing Hanbin back out until Bobby can kiss him languidly. 

The kiss breaks, and Bobby settles down so they’re side by side. His fingers are still in Hanbin.

“That’s too many to keep there,” Hanbin tells Bobby a moment later. “I won’t be able to walk.”

“Fine,” Bobby says, but he doesn’t sound very upset about it. He moves them out slowly. Hanbin still cringes at the sensation; four is a lot. 

Bobby searches out a tissue on Hanbin’s desk and wipes his hand on it before collapsing back down onto the bed, wrapping himself around Hanbin and falling right into sleep.

Too tired to clean them up any more, Hanbin falls asleep too.

\--

Hanbin wakes up the next morning hungover, naked, intertwined with Bobby, and remarkably uncomfortable from the dried sweat and come on his body. And, his walk is indeed a little awkward, as he’s still sore from last night. Mercifully, group activities don’t start until the early afternoon, so Hanbin lets himself take some time to get up, take a shower, dress, and have a very late breakfast. 

Junhoe is also having breakfast, sitting at the kitchen table. Everyone else is probably sleeping in. Sadly, Chanwoo is still passed out on the couch in the next room, which Hanbin observes as he sits across from Junhoe with his food.

Junhoe keeps staring at him from over his bowl of cereal. Not saying anything, just staring.

Maybe Hanbin still looks like shit from last night.

“What?” he finally asks.

“Nothing,” Junhoe says immediately.

He keeps staring.

“Don’t stare at me, man,” Hanbin grouses.

Junhoe looks away. 

A second later, he’s back to looking.

_”What,”_ Hanbin repeats, irritated.

Junhoe looks away again. “My bad.”

Junhoe stops watching then, and he doesn’t say anything as they finish eating. But Hanbin swears Junhoe knows something Hanbin doesn’t.

\--

“What ya working on?” Hanbin asks, joining Bobby in the studio.

“Yo.” Bobby leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. “Trying to work out this beat. Vocals don’t match how I expected, so I’m messing.”

Hanbin’s not surprised; he could tell last week, when they’d recorded, that one of the songs hadn’t sat right with Bobby. He moves to stand beside where Bobby’s seated. “Can I listen?”

Bobby nods and clicks, and the song starts up from the speakers. Bobby’s overlaid the heavy beat with a new, light string orchestration, which is interesting. Hanbin listens with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, nodding along.

Normally, when Hanbin’s standing like this, his hips beside Bobby’s shoulders, the older might hook a finger through one of Hanbin’s belt loops or hang onto the hem of his hoodie; he’s always been that affectionate of a person. But this time, he loops an arm between Hanbin’s legs from the back, resting a hand on the inside of one of Hanbin’s thighs, his palm against Hanbin’s leg. It’s not sexual; just kind of proprietary. Sort of nice.

He keeps his hand there as they finish listening, and Hanbin offers suggestions and Bobby makes adjustments. They stand like that for maybe another half hour, going back and forth on the song, until Hanbin gets a text from their manager and has to leave to talk about schedules. 

Bobby removes his hand casually, and Hanbin tells the older he’ll see him later.

\--

The thing they don’t tell you about being the leader of a group is the number of meetings you have to go to. 

Another thing they don’t tell you that your input will only be requested for about five minutes of those meetings. Apart from those five minutes, the rest of the time will mean Hanbin sitting around, pretending to care and/or trying to understand what everyone’s talking about, while wishing one of the members were there for him to play with.

After getting the update on all of the upcoming lessons and practices and fittings and _not_ falling asleep, Hanbin returns to the dorm. 

The kids and Bobby are hanging out in the living room. Junhoe and Jinhwan, previously in the kitchen, come in at Hanbin’s arrival. “Any updates?” Jinhwan asks.

“They want everyone to know that we did good on the recordings,” Hanbin announces. This elicits cheers. “And they gave me schedules for dance practice and diets.” This elicits a chorus of groans. 

He ignores them. “Dance starts tomorrow and there’s a shoot in a week and a half. Otherwise just the basic shit. Keep going to vocal lessons, don’t break the law--” he directs the last of his words at Donghyuk when he catches him messing around with Yunhyeong instead of paying attention, “--and _don’t_ go sleeping with every fan you meet.”

Donghyuk makes a face. “Hey, don’t tell me,” he complains, gesturing to the other side of the room. “Tell the hyung who’s stashing hot pink panties under his pillow.”

Hanbin turns to where Donghyuk’s pointed and finds Bobby, frozen in place, his cheeks a dusky red.

Hanbin hears the kids laugh behind him. 

Bobby’s expression when he looks at Hanbin is...desperate.

“Enough,” Hanbin snaps. The kids shut up. “If that’s true, then hyung will deal with the consequences of his actions.” He turns away from Bobby. “In the meantime, worry about yourselves. And _don’t_ go spying through other people’s rooms.” Donghyuk at least has the decency to look a little guilty.

Hanbin makes to leave the room. “Dance practice is at seven tomorrow morning.” Another wave of groans. “Remember to set your alarms. Don’t be late. I’m going to bed.”

He walks as measuredly as he can down the hall and into his room, just wanting to be alone, but he’s only in there for a second before Bobby’s rushing in after him.

“Hanbin, let me explain--“

“Shut the door,” Hanbin hisses. 

Bobby obeys, then turns back to him, face plaintive.

“I didn’t fuck some girl,” he begins. 

“I bet,” Hanbin snaps.

Bobby’s expression turns pained, like Hanbin’s slapped him. 

But Hanbin knows, somewhere in the back of his mind-- Bobby hasn’t actually done anything wrong. Hanbin has no real reason to be upset with him. But it still hurts. 

And this is why, _this_ is why Hanbin always second guessed Bobby’s actions when they started all this, this is why he kept assuming Bobby didn’t want to touch him-- this is why he knew this whole agreement was a mistake-- because some part of him knew that something like this would happen eventually.

“Hanbin,” Bobby pleads, _“it’s for us._ I got it for us.”

“Right,” Hanbin spits.

“I mean it,” Bobby says. “Look! Look, I have the receipt.” He rushes to his desk and starts to dig through a drawer. “Hold on, just gimme a second, fuck--“

“You know what, hyung,” Hanbin says, suddenly exhausted. “It’s none of my business.” 

“Here!” Bobby almost trips on his way over to Hanbin, grasping a folded-up piece of paper. 

Hanbin doesn’t want to look, but Bobby pushes it into his hands insistently. 

He unfolds it. 

It’s for lingerie, from an online retailer.

“I ordered it a week ago,” Bobby says. “I got it for us and I just haven’t had the chance to tell you.”

Hanbin eyes the paper, then Bobby, dubiously.

“I wanted to--“ Bobby’s cheeks turn pink. “I--okay, look.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “I imagined you wearing something like that and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So I ordered it.”

Hanbin stares back at the printed words.

“And I,” Bobby adds, “just, it happened in a wet dream, okay? The, the panties thing.” He looks mortified. “And I couldn’t get it out of my head. I should’ve hid it better, but I was...” he takes a deep breath. “...I was trying to figure out how to bring it up.”

Hanbin grips the receipt tightly. He feels something inside him shift, away from anger and over to shame for having exploded the way he did.

“I’m sorry,” Hanbin whispers. 

Bobby doesn’t say anything; he just releases a breath, tension visibly draining from his posture.

Hanbin asks, sheepishly, a moment later, “Can I...can I see them?”

Bobby smiles, so happy and bright, and it’s clear that he’s already forgiven Hanbin-- because he’s a much better person than Hanbin is, he always has been-- and he reaches under his pillow and pulls out not only panties, but stockings and a garter belt, then passes them over.

The set is really beautiful. Lacy and sheer and soft, the panties and belt dotted with tiny pink bows here and there.

“Obviously, you don’t have to...” Bobby says, gesturing, and he must mean Hanbin wearing them. Mostly, he just sounds relieved that Hanbin’s not upset about it anymore.

“These are not hot pink,” Hanbin observes, suddenly filled with so much relief that his eyes burn. “These are light pink. There’s a difference.” 

Bobby hears the catch in his voice and removes the set from Hanbin’s hands, then yanks him into a hug. Hanbin hides his face against Bobby’s shoulder.

“You really think I would fucking do that you, man?” Bobby asks, but his tone is gentle, almost confused. “I would never mess with you like that. God, Hanbin.”

Hanbin stays in Bobby’s arms for another minute, and then he pulls away. “I gotta go,” he fumbles. “I gotta go to the studio.” He doesn’t really, but he needs to be by himself for a while. 

“Okay,” Bobby says, stepping back, still looking softly confused.

“I’ll see you later,” Hanbin says, and he leaves the room.

On his way to the front door, he walks by Yunhyeong and Jinhwan, sitting at the kitchen table. They’re both eyeing Hanbin as he puts on his shoes.

“You two work your stuff out?” Jinhwan asks cautiously. 

_“Yes,”_ Hanbin says quellingly, and heads out the door.

\--

For the next couple days, Hanbin and Bobby are careful around each other. They’re polite and patient and totally hands off, to the extent that maybe they’re being _too_ careful. At one point, they even have a stand-off at a door to the company building, both politely insisting on opening it for the other. Donghyuk, annoyed, had pushed by them both and yanked the door open for himself. 

Once they were in the building, Jinhwan had dropped back in the group so that it was just him and Hanbin trailing behind the others, and gave Hanbin a _look._

Hanbin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he muttered. “I’ll figure it out.”

\--

Their dance practice is going to extend from all afternoon into all night, Hanbin thinks, if they can’t work out the kinks in this routine. He knows they’re all tired, and doesn’t want to push too hard, but he has to at least push. If they have to stay here another two hours, then they will.

During their short break between run-throughs, Hanbin settles down on the practice room floor next to Junhoe, who’s all folded up, arms holding his knees to his chest. He’s looking at the mirrored wall on the other side of the room with a peculiarly open expression, like maybe his exhaustion has hit some new plateau.

“Do you ever think,” Junhoe begins, making stunned eye contact with his own reflection, “that the people in the mirror are also in an idol group, doing the same exact dance practice, except that when they leave the room they have _different problems?”_

Hanbin turns slowly to look at Junhoe.

Okay, maybe they _don’t_ have to stay for another two hours. 

“Alright, let’s call it a night,” Hanbin announces, and everyone half-heartedly cheers. Except Junhoe, who’s making exaggerated faces in the mirror.

“Hyung,” Hanbin says quietly, to Jinhwan, “will you keep an eye on Junhoe? He’s... having a moment.”

Jinhwan nods, and takes Junhoe by the arm. 

“Should probably keep him from that mirror. Or any mirrors,” Hanbin advises, and Jinhwan looks slightly alarmed, but then resigned, like this is just what his life is now.

“Fine, let’s go, you big weirdo,” Jinhwan says, ushering Junhoe along. Hanbin stifles a laugh at how affectionate it sounds.

“Ey.” Bobby joins Hanbin in heading out of the practice room. “You’re a good leader, you know that?”

Hanbin brushes it off. “Practice won’t be productive if Junhoe keeps interrupting to ask Reflection Junhoe about his Reflection Problems,” he points out.

Bobby chuckles. “I mean it.” He takes Hanbin’s hand for and squeezes it, just for a second, as they head to the elevators. “You’re good at this.”

Despite himself, Hanbin smiles. 

\--

The lead up to promotions has always meant one certainty for Hanbin: a ratcheting up of his stress and anxiety. This time around, though, it means another thing: less time alone with Bobby. 

It’s weird, because it’s not like they have time scheduled in together every week for Hanbin to teach Bobby this or that aspect of fucking. And yet, Hanbin still feels it acutely when a big portion of that time is taken away, redistributed to dance practice or vocal lessons or interview run-throughs. And the schedule changes aren’t helped by the fact that they’re just now getting back into a rhythm of being close to each other, after their awkward-off over the panties. 

It’s silly, but Hanbin will be stuck in the studio mixing a track with a guest producer till four in the morning, wishing that Bobby was there mixing it with him instead, and then he’ll wish that he was just back at the dorm with Bobby, and then he’ll imagine himself laying in bed with Bobby, falling asleep after fucking, and then there’ll be a hand waving in Hanbin’s face and someone will be saying, “Hey, you okay?” and Hanbin will snap out of it and will be in the studio and will say, “yeah, I’m fine, sorry,” and return to the song.

\--

Two evenings later, Hanbin’s sitting on his bed, looking over schedules, when Bobby launches himself onto the mattress and pushes Hanbin down.

“It’s okay, I wasn’t doing anything,” Hanbin says.

Bobby grins, ignoring him. “What’s up.” 

Hanbin sighs. “Hey.” 

“Hey,” Bobby returns. “You doing anything for a while?”

Hanbin raises an eyebrow. “Well, I _was...”_ At Bobby’s look, he sighs again. “Not really. Why?”

Bobby sits back on Hanbin’s legs. “I have an idea for tonight.”

“An idea?” Hanbin tries not to seem too eager. 

“I have a goal.” Bobby smiles. “You see, I heard you were a screamer.”

Hanbin turns red, partly because it’s an embarassing accusation, but mostly because it’s true. He remembers telling Bobby the first time they fucked. It feels like forever ago.

“So?” Hanbin asks.

“So,” Bobby says. “I have yet to hear any real screams.”

Hanbin’s not sure he likes where this is going. “And?”

“And,” Bobby grins mischeviously. “I want to collect what I’m due.”

Uh oh.

“You’re going to tell me what to do to make you so loud,” Bobby says, with a hell of a lot of confidence.

“Is that so?” Hanbin half-laughs.

“Yes,” Bobby says, “Tonight you’re going to tell me. But _first,”_ his smile widens, “you’re going to relax.”

Saying that Hanbin is _going to relax_ is somewhat equivalent to saying _the world is going to start spinning in the opposite direction,_ so he can’t help but feel skeptical. But Bobby appears to have some kind of plan in mind. 

First, he turns off the overlight head in their room, and turns on the lamp on Hanbin’s desk, so that there’s a warm, low light around them. 

Then, he instructs Hanbin to strip down to his boxers. Hanbin’s too intrigued to not comply.

Bobby then pulls from the back of a dresser drawer a big, overwashed, worn-out sweater. It’s dark green, with big lettering in English on the front that Hanbin can’t translate. Hanbin thinks it must be years old, tucked away from forever ago. Bobby hands it over. 

With the fact that it’s already oversized and that Bobby usually wears a size or two bigger, Hanbin’s basically drowning in it. He sits on his bed and awkwardly folds his hands in his lap, over the hem of the sweater.

From his desk, Bobby pulls out some sort of chocolate brownie thing, still in plastic wrap from wherever he bought it, and sits down beside Hanbin.

“Open up,” Bobby says, unwrapping the brownie.

Hanbin releases a strangled laugh. “You gonna feed me?”

Bobby looks at him very seriously. It’s a little scary. “Yes.”

“Is this a sexy eating thing,” Hanbin says nervously, “because I’m not really into--“

“Bin.”

Hanbin reluctantly opens his mouth. Bobby pops a piece in. 

And. Fuck, man. It’s _delicious._ He doesn’t want to like it, since this is weird-- but Hanbin _loves_ anything chocolate at all, and he almost never gets to have brownies, and this is _good._ Bobby must be aware of both of those facts, which makes this manipulation; but it’s too tasty for Hanbin to be upset about. 

Hanbin feels like it should be weirder that he’s being hand-fed a brownie, but he adjusts after a minute or so. It’s actually kind of...nice. Like he’s being taken care of, and doesn’t have to worry about this one thing. And now he’s not hungry anymore.

Once he’s done eating, Bobby throws away the plastic, and has them both lay under the covers. He wraps his arms around Hanbin.

“Why,” Hanbin says, suspicious.

“Because you like being cozy,” Bobby says plainly.

And goddammit, he’s right. Hanbin _loves_ being cozy. 

Swaddled as he is, he actually begins to relax. Bobby plys him with kisses and cuddles and a near-indecent back massage, and slowly gets him talking. Hanbin wants to be outraged, really, but he’s just so _comfortable_ and the sweater is so soft and he’s so _warm,_ and before he knows it, he’s giving away all the details of a fantasy-- of being surprised, manhandled, fucked, just the way he likes it.

“You behind me,” Hanbin murmurs, lulled by Bobby’s gentle kneading of his lower back. “Sitting or lying down, I don’t know.”

Bobby makes a noise of agreement. “And.”

“And,” Hanbin adds. “It’s...slow.”

“Yeah?” Bobby moves his hands to sweep up and down Hanbin’s back, and Hanbin loosens up just a little bit more.

Hanbin exhales. “You make me beg for it.”

Bobby presses a smile against Hanbin’s neck. “And.”

“And.” Hanbin would definitely be embarassed if he didn’t feel so damn cozy. “You talk during.”

“Not about the weather, I’m guessing,” Bobby jokes.

“Not really,” Hanbin agrees, starting to feel kind of sleepy.

“I think we can make that happen,” Bobby decides.

Hanbin nods, eyes closed, and huddles closer. 

He’s so mellowed that he doesn’t even realize he’s hard until Bobby slips a knee between his and presses up against his crotch. Hanbin groans.

There’s a lot that Hanbin hasn’t taught Bobby, but which the other has figured out still, and this-- the way he touches Hanbin now-- seems like one of those things. The older lays on his back and helps lift Hanbin so that he’s straddling Bobby’s leg, then encourages Hanbin to ride his thigh. It’s easy; it feels _so_ good and Hanbin feels safe in a way he almost never does. 

Bobby angles his thigh up perfectly for Hanbin to grind on, and Hanbin moans and pushes back, planting his palms on Bobby’s chest for leverage. Hanbin really likes how his hands, swallowed up by the cuffs of the huge sweater, look pressed there. 

Bobby holds him steady by his waist and murmurs to him throughout, gentle assurances with an edge of something dirtier, and Hanbin thinks that Bobby’s gotten very good at this too, the talking part. Or maybe he’s just gotten really good at pressing Hanbin’s buttons. Hanbin’s not sure which; maybe both.

Hanbin is loud when he comes this time-- actually, he thinks he’s louder than he’s ever been with Bobby. It probably has to do with how much Bobby’d loosened him up, the way he’d so carefully manhandled Hanbin and talked him through it. Hanbin muffles most of his noises in the crook of Bobby’s neck, but he can’t help a few sharp, desperate cries that escape as he shakes. 

Bobby rubs his back as he finishes. After, he rearranges them so that Hanbin’s laying on top, head resting on Bobby’s chest. Hanbin makes a sloppy grab at Bobby’s crotch, but Bobby pushes him away, apparently content for the moment. Hanbin’s too tired to argue it anyway.

“That was louder,” Bobby observes, appraising. “Not bad. I’m still not letting it go.”

Indignant, Hanbin falls asleep.

\--

Backstage, waiting to head onstage for the showcase, Hanbin’s buzzing with nervous energy. 

Stuck in the dark, holding for their cue, Hanbin fidgets and goes over the setlist in his head for the thirtieth time. They’ve rehearsed and rehearsed and rehearsed, and he’s already given a pep talk to the other members, so they’re as ready as they’ll ever be. All that’s left to do is perform. 

When Hanbin feels someone’s side press against his, he doesn’t bother squinting in the dark to see who it is. 

Normally, he hates to be touched right before a big event like this; he doesn’t even like to talk to anyone before heading onstage. This time, though, something about the contact feels right. Bobby doesn’t say anything, just stands there, until he sways in and kisses Hanbin on the cheek. 

It doesn’t make Hanbin less nervous by a significant amount, but it does settle a little something in him. 

The music cueing their entrance starts up, and Hanbin and Bobby separate, joining everyone else to get in position.

\--

Not long after promotions start, their manager shares with Hanbin that, for four days, they’ll be traveling for performances and interviews. This means three nights at a hotel. 

“We thought we’d copy the dorm arrangements for the hotel,” their manager tells Hanbin, as they look over schedules for the trip. “So how you guys are roomed now.”

Hanbin nods. “Okay.”

“There’ll probably only be one bed in the two-person rooms, though,” their manager tacks on. “Like usual.”

“Oh,” Hanbin says. “Alright. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

\--

_”It was Apink,”_ Junhoe insists for the fifth time.

The van explodes back at him in disagreement. 

Well, excluding their manager, who’s driving. Hanbin feels bad that he has to witness all of this. 

“What the fuck are you smoking?” Donghyuk asks Junhoe, disbelieving. “There has never been a song in the history of the universe that sounds like what you just sang.”

They’re playing one of their ‘stuck in the van for a long trip’ games. For this, they take turns singing and guessing renditions of favorite songs, but in unexpected musical styles. Apparently, Junhoe’s was meant to be _Remember,_ but no one seems to agree with him. Hanbin counts back in his head; they’re only on round three, and Donghyuk has already accused someone of singing a song that hasn’t existed in the history of the universe. 

Oh good, and now Donghyuk is leaning over the back of his seat to try and fight Junhoe, who angrily paws back at him.

_”Enough,”_ Hanbin says quellingly, and Donghyuk settles back down with a sour expression. Junhoe crosses his arms petulantly.

“What are you two even gonna do?” Hanbin asks them incredulously. “Slap fight?” 

“My turn!” Yunhyeong cuts in. He readies himself to sing.

“Only you,” Bobby, who’s sitting beside Hanbin, whispers in his ear.

Hanbin jolts. 

“What?”

_“Only You,”_ Bobby repeats, hushed. “For the song choice.”

Oh, right. 

Yunhyeong always, always, always picks Miss A songs for this game. No knows why, and no one says anything about it aloud, but Hanbin’s beginning to suspect that Yunhyeong himself doesn’t realize he’s doing it (judging from his surprised expression when his choices, even the more obscure ones, are quickly guessed). Anyway, Hanbin and Bobby have started betting with each other to anticipate his choices.

“Um,” Hanbin quickly calls another Miss A song to mind. _“Love Song.”_

Bobby raises an eyebrow. “Underdog pick.”

Hanbin grins. “I like an underdog.”

Yunhyeong exhales and then starts in on his song, which he’s turned into a slow, winding ballad.

_“Only You!”_ Bobby crows victoriously after two bars.

Yunhyeong looks a little disappointed to have to stop singing, but he concedes the win to Bobby, who cheers.

“See now, _that_ was a song that has existed in the history of the universe,” Donghyuk says snottily in Junhoe’s direction. Hanbin rolls his eyes.

Bright with pride, Bobby punches Hanbin’s shoulder. “Told you it was _Only You.”_

“You win,” Hanbin agrees.

\--

Right in the morning after their first night at the hotel, the group has their first event of the trip: a live performance outside, as part of a special music show celebration. 

Hanbin can tell that the group is psyched to be out on a big stage for the first time in a while, and he finds that he’s excited too. Backstage is wild, though, with concert staff and other groups and their managers running around, talking and changing and taping microphone packs. When they’re third in line to perform, they wait in a hallway, squeezed up against two other groups, one of which is a rookie girl group that they’ve run into a couple times before.

Hanbin’s crowded farther back in the hallway, but at the front, Bobby and the leader of the rookie girl group recognize each other and exhange greetings excitedly. Hanbin can’t hear them totally, but he sees them do a quick half-hug, and then the girl seems to dive into telling a story that makes Bobby laugh. Bobby at one point gestures back towards the group, saying something to the girl, who nods, and then they stand kind of close (Hanbin thinks) as she explains something to Bobby.

When the girl group has to leave to head on stage, the leader and Bobby appear to say goodbye, and he waves as she heads away. She turns back and laughs at some face he makes, and then her group is gone.

Well then.

Hanbin keeps waiting for their cue.

“Hyung?” comes Chanwoo’s voice.

Hanbin breaks from his reverie. Apparently, he’d been staring down the hall.

“Hm?” Hanbin turns to find the maknae fidgeting. He looks like he’s working up to say something.

“Respectfully,” Chanwoo begins, which Hanbin has figured out is how he starts his sentences when he thinks he might upset someone, “hyung, don’t let your imagination get the best of you, you know?”

Chanwoo’s looking at Hanbin like he’s willing the older to pick up on a deeper meaning, on some unspoken understanding that they have, but Hanbin can’t for the life of him figure out what the kid means.

So he just says, “thanks, maknae,” and nods. Chanwoo looks relieved.

At a signal from a staff member wearing a headset, Hanbin announces “We’re on,” loud enough for the group to hear, and gets nods in return. Chanwoo falls back to his place in line, and they head onstage.

\--

After the performance, Hanbin and Bobby run into each other in the bathroom backstage. 

Bobby’s washing his hands when Hanbin comes in. “Hey!” he greets brightly.

“Hey,” Hanbin says back. He takes a sink and runs the water till it’s cold, then splashes his face. He runs a wet hand over the back of his neck; he’s feeling even hotter than usual after their performance. Probably the effect of dancing outside, in the sun, he thinks.

Bobby finishes drying his hands and leans up against the counter, waiting for Hanbin. 

“You okay?” he asks.

Hanbin turns off the sink and shakes his hands. “Fine.”

“You sure?” Bobby’s eyes follow Hanbin as he crosses the room and grabs paper towels. “You can tell me if something’s up.”

“Everything’s fine,” Hanbin repeats.

“Okay,” Bobby says. He pushes off from the counter and moves near Hanbin. “Well, just...let me know, if something isn’t.” 

Hanbin throws away the paper towels, and Bobby takes one of his hands. He pulls it to his mouth and presses a kiss to the back. 

“Alright?” he asks, checking that Hanbin knows they can talk if they need to.

Feeling himself cool off a bit, Hanbin nods. 

_Don’t get so worked up,_ he tells himself. _It’s not that important anyway._

Bobby kisses his hand again before releasing it, and Hanbin pinks, just a little.

“We gotta get back out there,” Hanbin reminds. Bobby nods, and they head back.

\--

When Bobby had mellowed Hanbin out and the younger had shared his fantasy, had said _surprise me, manhandle me, use me,_ Hanbin had overlooked the possibility of Bobby taking him up on that offer while they were at the hotel.

They’ve just gotten back to their room at the end of the day and Hanbin’s in front of the bed, pulling off his jacket, when he turns around and Bobby’s _right_ there. 

And then, Hanbin’s being pushed down to the mattress, both his hands pinned, and Bobby is looking down at him hungrily; and Hanbin remembers what he’d asked for, all that time ago. Bobby’s pushing up Hanbin’s shirt, then tearing open his pants, and arousal flushes hot through Hanbin.

He looms over Hanbin and looks down at him, inquisitively, checking for Hanbin’s permission before he goes any further.

Hanbin nods, and Bobby’s expression steels. He runs a possessive hand down Hanbin’s bare abdomen, then roughly over his crotch, covered now only by his underwear. Hanbin inhales sharply.

Bobby pulls at Hanbin’s clothing, yanking it off until he’s naked. He turns Hanbin onto his side and then gets naked too, so quickly, and crowds against Hanbin’s side. Already, Hanbin’s hardening; the manhandling alone is leaving him wanting, _needing._

Behind Hanbin, Bobby shuffles around under a pillow, his chest pressing against Hanbin’s back deliciously. When he slides a slick hand between Hanbin’s thighs from behind, Hanbin jumps, realizing that it was lube Bobby was finding. 

Bobby maneuvers his hand to spread the lube along the insides of Hanbin’s legs and balls and back to his hole. Hanbin moans because it feels _so_ good and nothing’s even happening yet. 

“Please,” Hanbin rushes out in a breath. 

He’s ignored.

_“Please,”_ he repeats. He’s surprised by his own quickness to beg, even if it’s hushed. He thinks that if Bobby just held his lubed-up hand against his entrance, Hanbin could probably just grind back on him and come with almost no effort. He tries to get ahold of himself. He can’t believe that he’d suggested this, that he’d whispered about getting fucked like this to Bobby, that this whole thing was his idea. 

“What’ll you do for it?” Bobby asks, voice rough.

Automatically, Hanbin says, “Anything. Whatever you want.”

Bobby hums and runs his hand along Hanbin’s thigh appraisingly. Even that touch is enough to make Hanbin shiver, he’s so wound up already. “Maybe wear those panties for me?” 

Hanbin inhales, squeezes his eyes shut. 

“The stockings and the belt, too,” Bobby says huskily. “Once I get you in that outfit, what I’m gonna do to you--“ his laugh is coarse. He slides his hand, now messy with lube, up to cup Hanbin’s thigh right below the curve of his ass. “--I keep thinking, I’ll _snap_ those little straps, so hard--“

Hanbin moans. Bobby exhales harshly into his ear. His bangs tickle as they brush against Hanbin’s temple.

Hanbin tries to grind down against the mattress, to give his cock even a bit of friction, but Bobby catches him. He grabs Hanbin’s hip, holding him still. His fingers press down hard; Hanbin thinks maybe it’ll leave marks. The thought is almost too much excitement on top of everything else.

“Not yet,” Bobby says. Hanbin doesn’t know how his voice can sound so steady at a moment like this. “You’re not ready.”

As if he’s trying to test Hanbin, push him to the edge but forbid him from going over it, Bobby slides his lubed hand back and forth between Hanbin’s thighs. “Fuck, you look so hot like this,” he says. Hanbin can feel his erection, trapped beneath him, leaking onto the bed. “So good. Keep those legs together.” He removes his hand and _smacks_ Hanbin’s ass.

Hanbin makes a noise he doesn’t think he’s ever made before. The sting is amplified by the slick of the lube, and Hanbin curls forward into the sheets.

Bobby laughs again. “Better.” He rubs the spot that he smacked, hot now with blood rushing to the surface, and Hanbin hisses through his teeth. “Though I think we can still make you scream.” 

When Bobby slides his cock between Hanbin’s thighs, Hanbin can’t stop himself from moaning, loudly. 

“Fuck,” Bobby says, pushing in until he’s fitted right up against Hanbin’s back. “That feels so good. You feel amazing.”

Hanbin waits for Bobby to speed up and just _fuck him,_ but he doesn’t-- he keeps it slow, thrusting at a pace that makes Hanbin want to pull his hair out. His fingers itch to move, to slide down between his legs and bring himself some kind of relief. He just barely resists the urge by fisting the sheets.

Bobby catches that too. “What,” he pants as he thrusts, still managing to sound completely in control, “do I have to tie you up?”

Hanbin hides his face against his own bicep.

Bobby catches on. “Wait,” he rushes out, “don’t move,” and he rearranges something on the bed. 

In a second, he returns to guide Hanbin’s arms above his head, and wrap something around his wrists-- a bed sheet. He twists it into some kind of knot, then anchors it where Hanbin can’t see, maybe to the bedframe or under the mattress. Bobby tugs on the sheet and Hanbin’s wrists follow; his fingers slide under to feel around Hanbin’s pulse.

“Too tight?” he asks, and Hanbin yanks down on the sheet, then shakes his head. 

“Good,” Bobby says, and he lays down behind Hanbin again. 

Hanbin hisses as Bobby slides back between his legs, back to thrusting in only moments.

It’s too much. Hanbin tries to work through the confusion of sensations, tries to decide what he should do-- he wants to fuck back and make himself come faster, but he also wants to hold on and be good for Bobby, and he can’t figure out which thing to do. He begins to shake, to make noises, but it’s too _loud,_ and without thinking, he bites down on his own bicep to muffle the sound.

Bobby pulls out.

Hanbin gasps, shocked, and then moans, _infuriated._

Bobby doesn’t seem to care. He rubs his cock up against Hanbin’s ass. 

“I like making you wait,” Bobby breathes, then _laughs_ again, he has the actual audacity to _laugh._ “Maybe I’ll just get off like this and leave you hard. What do you think?”

Hanbin laughs, the sound strangled.

“How long will you wait for me to get you off?” Bobby thrusts against Hanbin’s ass. “I could tie you up and leave you here, for an hour or two. Maybe the whole evening. What do you think?”

_Fuck._ Bobby’s words push Hanbin closer to the edge; Hanbin doesn’t come only because he knows it’s forbidden. 

“Or, you can make noise,” Bobby offers. “And then I’ll finish fucking you. Your choice.”

Hanbin tries to think clearly, tries to think past how achingly hard he is, how badly he wants to finish. 

If he just does what Bobby says, he’ll get what he wants. He just has to follow the rules. If he’s good, he gets to come.

“Okay,” Hanbin pants. “Okay, okay, I’ll make noise.”

Tone sharp, Bobby advises, “be polite.”

“Please,” Hanbin blurts.

“Please what?”

“Please...” the words embarass and arouse Hanbin in equal measure. “Please, fuck me.”

“Good boy,” Bobby says. He takes hold of Hanbin’s hip and his cock is back between Hanbin’s thighs, a perfect slide, from below the cleft of his ass, forward to brush against his balls. That first slow thrust feels so good that Hanbin moans immediately.

“Good,” Bobby repeats. He aims his thrusts so that they keep pressing against Hanbin’s ass and then his balls, and it feels spectacular. Each long, slow, smooth slide pushes Hanbin closer and closer, but each time he feels ready to come, shaking and whining and pulling on the knot binding his wrists, Bobby pulls back and waits for Hanbin to recover control before thrusting back in.

Hanbin gasps the first and second time, moans the third time, and resorts to frenzied begging after that. 

“Faster,” he pleads. He can’t do this, he needs to come, now. _“Please.”_

“Absolutely not,” Bobby says. 

The next time he pulls back and waits for Hanbin to calm, he doesn’t thrust; instead, he wraps his hand around Hanbin’s cock, probably to punish Hanbin for his request for more. Hanbin _shouts._

Bobby squeezes Hanbin’s erection tight, then rolls his palm over the head, a confusing mix of pain and pleasure that breaks a sob out of his chest. _“Hyung,”_ he cries, voice breaking. Bobby strokes him tight, dragging his hand from base to the tip. “Hyu--“ Hanbin inhales sharply, “--hyung--”

Bobby’s cock slides back between Hanbin’s thighs again, hard and hot, pressing up against his balls just as his thumb drags over the head of Hanbin’s cock, and that’s it-- Hanbin screams.

_”Hyung--“_ he wails, “hyung, fuck, _fuck,--“_

And Hanbin comes _so_ hard and _so_ messy, harder and messier than he ever has in his life, into Bobby’s hand. 

Distantly, he feels Bobby thrusting fast, until he stiffens and comes as well, pulsing between Hanbin’s thighs.

Hanbin breathes harshly into the pillow beneath his head, shaking, trying to collect himself. 

And then, he’s crying. 

For a second, he freaks, thinking it’s a panic attack. But the feeling isn’t constricting-- it’s a release. It feels _good._ It’s like finally letting go og something pent up, and it’s a relief.

Hanbin feels his hands being untied from the bedsheet, and then Bobby is all over him, holding him, squeezing him, kissing at the tear tracks below his eyes. 

“You did it, Bin,” he whispers. “You did it.”

He pulls Hanbin close, and Hanbin lets go, burrowing into Bobby’s front and crying harder. 

\--

“We gotta clean up,” Bobby tells him quietly some time later, when Hanbin’s sobbing has mostly calmed. “We’re a mess.” 

With a hint of a laugh, he adds, “we destroyed this bed.”

Sniffling, Hanbin nods. He isn’t interested in moving right now, but they’ve got a full schedule tomorrow, and he doesn’t want to take care of all this in the morning.

“Come on,” Bobby says, “I got you,” and he helps Hanbin to the bathroom. 

Hanbin feels stiff and worn, and spent in so many ways; just to stay upright as Bobby turns the water on, he has to lean up against the wall beside the shower.

“Alright, get in,” Bobby says, ushering him under the spray.

With some effort, Hanbin does, but he doesn’t contribute much from there. He realizes that he’s difficult to work with in the moment, nearly falling asleep on his feet, but he can’t help it; it’s like he’s been erased of everything.

“Okay, bath instead of shower next time,” Bobby says, holding Hanbin up to the spray with one arm and cleaning him with the other. “I got it.”

Mmm, a bath sounds nice. Hanbin lets his eyes slip shut and leans back against Bobby.

“Ey,” Bobby says a moment later, “don’t fall asleep.”

“Trying,” Hanbin mumbles, though he’s really not.

Bobby sighs like it’s so obvious Hanbin’s lying-- which he is-- and finishes washing him. Then he kind of holds Hanbin off to the side while he washes himself, like a baby on his hip. Even through his haze, Hanbin has to admit it’s pretty funny.

Things get a little blurry and the next thing he remembers is leaning up against the wall outside the shower as Bobby towels him off. He runs a towel up Hanbin’s legs, arms, abs, chest, then gently dries his face and runs the cloth over his hair.

“Sleep,” Hanbin demands drowsily.

“We’re gettin’ there,” Bobby promises. “Hold on.”

Then Hanbin’s in the bed, and Bobby is pulling a blanket over the both of them. He settles in behind Hanbin and spoons him. Hanbin groans, finally able to sleep, warm and comfortable.

“I put the sheet under us, so we’re not sleeping on lube and dried cum,” Bobby says into Hanbin’s hair. “Just FYI.”

Hanbin means to say thanks, but he falls asleep before he can.

\--

“iKon!” Hanbin greets in his best MC imitation voice. “Tell us about your new album.”

“Well,” Yunhyeong begins, “as we’ve teased for months now, the entire first CD will be covers of EXID songs. And to anticipate your next question, _yes,_ I will be at the front of the dance triangle for _Up and Down.”_

“Though, I did think it was weird that they wanted us to do opera for the whole second CD,” Jinhwan adds, with theatrical confusion. “But I have to say, Donghyuk was a much better Phantom of the Opera than I could’ve predicted.”

“And don’t forget,” Bobby chimes in, “that the third CD will proudly reveal a new subunit, showcasing Jinhwan-hyung and June-yah with their debut single, ‘Just Lick It.’”

Hanbin clamps a hand over Bobby’s mouth. 

“Ha, ha,” Hanbin deadpans. “You’re all so funny. So very funny.” He gives them all a look. “Now I would like real answers, please.”

“Like, _real_ answers?” Junhoe asks.

“Yes, like, _real answers,”_ Hanbin says. “Where are your interview cards?”

Everyone suddenly looks very sheepish.

“Oh, come on,” Hanbin complains. “Please tell me you at least brought them.”

“They’re in the other rooms,” Chanwoo answers. “...I think.”

Hanbin prays for patience. 

“Fine, go get them.” At everyone’s hesitant looks, he gestures for them to leave their little circle on the floor of Hanbin and Bobby’s hotel room. “Go! I mean it!” They all scatter back to their respective rooms, hopefully to return with the little cards printed with interview guidelines.

Except Bobby, who’s still sitting there, his mouth covered by Hanbin’s hand.

“Let me guess,” Hanbin says. “The cards got up and walked away.”

Bobby winks at Hanbin, then reaches down and pulls the cards out of...the front of his pants. 

He waves them at Hanbin happily.

“Oh my god.” Hanbin shakes his head. “Well, that’s one way to not lose them.”

Eyes sparkling, Bobby licks Hanbin’s palm.

Hanbin rolls his eyes. If Bobby wants Hanbin’s hand gone, he better step it up. “Come on, you’re gonna have to do better than that.”

Apparently, Bobby takes this as an invitation, because he lets his eyes fall shut and _moans._

Hanbin yanks his hand away. 

Ears burning, he wipes his off hand against the side of his jeans.

“I can do more,” Bobby offers, face all innocent.

“No, that’s fine, mission accomplished,” Hanbin mutters.

“Whatchya talking about?” comes Chanwoo’s voice, and Hanbin jumps almost a foot in the air.

“NOTHING,” Hanbin and Bobby chorus, though Hanbin’s is a lot higher-pitched.

From the doorway, Chanwoo eyes them both skeptically. “Oh...kay,” he says, then shrugs. “Anyway,” he holds up his cards for Hanbin to see. “I found mine, but I think there’s kimchi stains on them.” He looks closer at a card, squinting. “It’s only covering the parts about...oh...everything.” He looks back up, embarrassed. “Whoops.”

Hanbin sighs.

\--

The actual interview they go to that day, thank god, does not go similarly-- and it’s a good thing, since this one’s on stage, with microphones, in front of waves of fans. That’s after a live performance, and it’s followed immediately by a fan meeting, a short group vlog backstage, and a group dinner out with some important people who Hanbin doesn’t really care about. 

So, by the time he and Bobby finally get back to their hotel room, Hanbin’s exhausted. 

But Hanbin has plans, ones he’s not willing to cancel just because he’s had a long day, so he pushes through his fatigue and waits until Bobby’s in the shower to change.

Then he wraps himself up in a bedsheet and pads over to the bathroom, feeling supremely self-conscious as he decides how to present himself. Wait until Bobby’s out and then seductively remove the sheet? No, he’ll definitely mess that up. Take the sheet off now and pose at the sink? No, that doesn’t even _sound_ sexy in his head. Go back to the bed and wait?

He’s so caught up in contemplation that it takes him a second to realize that Bobby’s stepped out of the shower. By then, it’s too late to turn and run.

“Hey,” the older says, grabbing a towel off a bar and and scrubbing it over his hair. “You going in?”

Hanbin makes a meek sound of agreement. 

Bobby registers the bedsheet burrito and raises an eyebrow. “Not to be rude,” he teases, “but you might be overdoing it. I’ve kind of seen it all already.”

Hanbin nods pathetically.

Bobby’s brow furrows. “You okay?”

“I was just gonna--“ Hanbin blurts, turning to leave the bathroom, “it was--nothing, I’ll--“

“Bin,” Bobby says, concerned. 

Hanbin freezes in place. 

Bobby cautiously approaches him-- still naked and wet, as if this wasn’t enough of a mess already-- and looks the sheet up and down.

“What’s this?” he asks softly.

Hanbin unsuccessfully tries to say “nothing,” but it comes out more like a confused squawk. Oh, this was a bad idea.

Bobby looks between the sheet and Hanbin like he’s asking for permission. Hanbin nods, flushing. 

Hanbin looks away and as the older gets close and pushes the sheet off the to the floor.

He inhales sharply. _”Bin.”_

Hanbin fidgets.

“You brought it?” Bobby asks, sounding amazed. 

He feels so silly, so _embarassed,_ wearing the lingerie that Bobby had bought-- the pink panties and garter belt with the matching stockings-- because he’d never even thought of himself like that before, never imagined himself wearing _lingerie._ It’s unbelievable, it’s absurd, even as he’d packed it away in his suitcase he’d said to himself, _nothing will happen, you shouldn’t even bring it,_ but as he did it he’d felt an unexpected thrill-- and then the first night they’d gotten to the hotel he’d snuck into the bathroom after Bobby had fallen asleep to try the set on, and he just...

He couldn’t stop _looking_ at it, touching it, running his hands over the lace and mesh; sliding his fingers under the lining on the stockings and playing with the little bows and garter straps. He couldn’t stop checking his reflection, his embarassment forgotten in the face of his fascination. Hanbin felt _good,_ he felt _sexy,_ he felt beautiful and special in a way that he never had before. And he realized that he had to wear it again, he had to wear it for Bobby-- even if it meant humiliating himself in the act of revealing it. 

And then Bobby had brought it up when they were fucking, and that was it.

Bobby doesn’t even seem to realize how terrified Hanbin is to show him what he’s wearing; the older is just staring at the lingerie, transfixed. He looks up to make eye contact.

“Can I take you to bed?” he asks earnestly.

Oh, god. 

Hanbin nods. 

Bobby leans down and scoops him up into a bridal carry. Hanbin squeaks in surprise. He hides his face against Bobby’s chest for the very short walk from the bathroom back to the bed-- and it’s ridiculous, but it turns him on, being carried; especially, he finds, while he’s wearing the lingerie. 

Bobby sets Hanbin down on the bed very gently, then climbs on. Hanbin lies there feeling really out in the open and flushed as Bobby kneels between his legs and takes him in.

“Wow,” he breathes. “Look at you.”

Hanbin can’t-- he screws his eyes shut. It’s mortifying, and he can feel himself getting hard just from this, just from Bobby looking. He even thinks the embarassment might be part of what’s turning him on. Jesus.

Bobby runs a hand over the mesh of the panties over Hanbin’s hipbone, slides a finger beneath the elastic. 

“It’s weird,” Bobby laughs, “You look perfect. Like, I almost don’t want to touch you.”

Hanbin exhales nervously. “Do I-- is it not--”

“No, no,” Bobby quickly corrects, “it’s amazing. You look amazing. I’m just saying, you’re, ha,” he runs a hand down Hanbin’s leg, “you’re literally out of a wet dream. I feel like I shouldn’t be allowed to mess it up.”

Hanbin opens his eyes. “Well...” he gathers up the courage to tease Bobby, “...then I must’ve worn it for nothing...” he looks away. 

When he looks back, Bobby looks alarmed.

“I can take it off,” Hanbin offers innocently.

Bobby takes hold of Hanbin’s hips and _yanks_ him down the bed. Hanbin’s heartbeat jumps with anticipation.

“I changed my mind,” Bobby says, eyes dark. “I can definitely touch you.” He slides his hands along Hanbin’s entire body, his arms, his chest, the sides of the panties-- moving right by where Hanbin _wants_ to be touched-- down his thighs, and Hanbin arches into it, lets his eyes fall shut.

Bobby’s hands move off Hanbin. 

“Hey,” Bobby rasps, “turn over.”

Nervous but excited, Hanbin flips over and stretches out. 

Bobby places kisses on Hanbin’s thigh around the garter straps, then sucks a hickey right above the lace of the stockings, and Hanbin’s hips twitch against the sheets. Two fingers skim the back of the panties, down over Hanbin’s hole, and Hanbin swears. 

Bobby teases at that spot through the lace, and he bites kisses onto Hanbin’s ass cheeks, until Hanbin’s spreading his legs without even thinking about it, pushing back.

He’s about to ask if they need lube when Bobby’s mouth presses at the panties over his entrance.

Shocked, Hanbin skitters nearly a foot up in the bed. 

Bobby’s weight lifts from Hanbin’s legs and Hanbin feels Bobby follow him up the mattress. 

“No?” he asks from above Hanbin, tentative.

It’s-- it’s, Hanbin’s not sure, he doesn’t really-- he’s just so surprised that-- 

but, it wasn’t bad, it just, it’s--

“Bin?”

“No, no, it’s okay, you can do it,” Hanbin decides.

“You sure?” Bobby sounds nervous.

Hanbin nods. 

Bobby lowers back down. 

Thankfully, he works the pace back up carefully, slowly kissing his way over to Hanbin’s hole. When he mouths once more at the lace over that spot, it still surprises Hanbin-- but then Bobby taps into some kind of technique, and this, _this_ Hanbin definitely did not teach him. Hanbin’s never really been into this; he never felt an inclination to do it to someone else, and the handful of times someone’s done it for him, he was mostly unmoved. But this is different-- maybe because Bobby seems to know his body so well, or maybe because it’s the two of them together, or whatever-- and he doesn’t even have a clue where Bobby learned this or even got the idea-- but what Hanbin knows right now is that it feels _good._

Bobby’s going at it with fervor, holding his hips down, licking against the lace so that his tongue presses past it into Hanbin, and Hanbin clenches and shudders. Bobby gets him so pliant, so wet, that he doesn’t panic when Bobby yanks his hips back and up so that he’s on his knees, curled forward with his face against the mattress. It’s such a vulnerable position, something Hanbin would normally be horrified about, but he’s so worked up that the exposure only makes him feel more frantic to get off. Already, there’s a circle of precome dampening the front of the panties where his cock is straining.

Bobby pulls his mouth away, and Hanbin is about to whine when he feels both of the garter straps _snap_ against his skin. 

“Ah!” Hanbin’s whole body jerks forward.

“I told you I’d do it,” comes Bobby’s voice, hoarse. Hanbin muffles a moan into his fist. 

The garter straps snap again, harsh against Hanbin’s thighs.

“What did I tell you,” Bobby says. “Don’t keep those noises from me.”

Hanbin reluctantly drags his hand from his mouth, fisting it instead in the blanket.

“Good,” Bobby says. The garter straps lift from Hanbin’s skin as Bobby runs his fingers up and down them. “Again?”

Hanbin nods into the sheets, _so_ wound up, _so_ hard.

The straps snap, and Hanbin lets out his moan fully. 

Bobby kisses the base of his spine. “Good. Better. Again?”

Hanbin nods. This time, the straps send a flash of delicious pain straight to his cock. _”Fuck,”_ he groans. 

They snap again, and again, and Hanbin knows he’s getting louder, but he can’t help it. “You got it, baby,” Bobby tells him, rubbing a hand down his back. “You’re doing so good.” There’s a pause before the straps hit his skin the hardest yet, making Hanbin squeak. 

“I want them to leave marks,” Bobby laughs. 

Hanbin murmurs into the bed.

“What’s that?”

Hanbin repeats himself, possibly even quieter.

“Speak up.” Bobby runs a proprietary hand over the curve of Hanbin’s ass, the promise of a consequence if he doesn’t speak clearly. 

“I’m gonna come,” Hanbin mutters.

“What,” Bobby says, “from this?” The elastic hits his thighs and Hanbin curses again. 

Bobby leans back in, and goes back to eating Hanbin out until the lace is soaked where he mouths at them over Hanbin’s hole, until Hanbin’s hips are shaking. This time, when he pulls away to snap the straps, Hanbin shouts and comes, curling in on himself as he spills against the soft fabric of the panties.

He feels Bobby climb up the bed and lay down beside him to watch. Then, as Hanbin finishes, Bobby gently rolls Hanbin to his side, presses in close, and reaches down to jerk himself off.

Catching his breath, Hanbin slides a knee between both of Bobby’s, pushing up against his balls; Bobby moans bucks into his own fist. Bobby’s other hand grasps at the back of Hanbin’s panties, fisting in them and yanking up, and Hanbin gasps at the sudden pressure. 

“Bin,” Bobby groans, and he comes into his own hand, making a desperate sound that sends shivers through Hanbin.

He pants harshly until he seems to calm, until he’s finished coming but still sounding and looking overwhelmed.

Hanbin’s hand fumbles at his face, cupping his cheek. “Hyung,” he says. “You okay?” He presses his forehead against Bobby’s. Hanbin’s hair is wet between their faces, and it takes Hanbin a second to realize that he’s sweat through it.

It takes Hanbin a minute to realize that the older is saying something.

“Thank you,” he’s murmuring. “Thank you, thank you.”

Hanbin grips Bobby tight. 

It’s strange: the day before, Bobby had to take care of Hanbin; but today, it feels like they both need something from the other-- now, they need to be as close as possible. Quickly they’re wrapping around each other, and Hanbin feels a surge of attachment so strong that he doesn’t think could be pried away from Bobby if his life depended on it.

At some point Hanbin realizes that he has to undress before he falls asleep in the lingerie. He goes to take off the panties, and Bobby jumps to attention, helping unclip the garter belt and tug off the stockings and and panties. Once Bobby’s bundled up the clothing and slid it under a pillow, he and Hanbin clamp back together like magnets, holding on as they fall asleep.

\--

The last thing they have to do the following morning, before they head home, is give an abbreviated lesson on their newest dance for a camera crew. They make themselves presentable and the cameras are set up in some big room in the hotel-- Hanbin suspects it’s probably for meetings, with all the furniture pushed to the perimeter-- and film their little lesson. 

When they finish and the crew filters out, the members settle down on various pieces of furniture pushed to the corners of the room and wait for their manager and the van. In the meantime, Hanbin finds Bobby sitting on a loveseat, and settles down at his side, on one of the plush arms. 

They sit in silence for a minute, and then Bobby breaks into a huge grin.

“Go ahead,” he says happily. “Ask me.”

“Ask you what?” Hanbin says.

Bobby raises an eyebrow. He spreads his legs a bit and pats one of his thighs.

“Oh my god.” Hanbin rolls his eyes, and glances around. Quietly, he adds, “not here.”

“No one’s awake,” Bobby says back. 

Hanbin looks again. Actually, he’s right. They’re all asleep. Junhoe’s even drooling. 

Hanbin tries to be careful as he shifts over and settles his weight onto Bobby’s lap. Bobby accepts him happily, holding Hanbin around his middle and smiling up at him.

“Ask me your question,” he repeats.

Hanbin layers his arms over Bobby’s and sighs as obnoxiously as he can manage. 

Quietly, Bobby says, _”You_ want to know how I learned what I did to you last night.” 

Hanbin pinks, recalling Bobby eating him out the night before-- as if Hanbin had stopped thinking about it at all between then and now-- and pretends not to have heard.

“I will tell you my secret,” Bobby murmurs, pressing his lips to Hanbin’s jaw. Hanbin squirms, glancing around the room again to make sure everyone’s still asleep. They are. “All you gotta do is ask.”

Hanbin squirms again. “Fine. _How.”_

Bobby smiles against his cheek, moves his mouth to Hanbin’s ear. 

“Pornography,” he whispers.

Hanbin chokes on a laugh. 

“Lots and lots of pornography,” Bobby elaborates.

_”Hyung,”_ Hanbin coughs.

“What?” Bobby pulls away and bites his lip, holding back his own laughter. “You think I learned it from osmosis?”

Suddenly, Hanbin can’t stop his giggles. 

“And when did you watch this pornography?” he asks.

“When you were doing leader stuff,” Bobby says, and Hanbin doesn’t know if he’s joking or not.

“What you are saying,” Hanbin says quietly, having to suppress his laughter again, “is that you have been watching gay porn,” Bobby nods, “for pointers.”

_”And_ to jerk off to,” Bobby says, feigning offense, and Hanbin snorts.

From the corner of his eye, Hanbin catches Yunhyeong fidgeting at the noise-- but he doesn’t wake up, just turns over. Hanbin does his best to quiet himself. 

“Hey Hanbin,” Bobby murmurs a second later. 

“Mm.” Hanbin shivers when Bobby licks at a sensitive spot on his neck, then bites his earlobe.

“I told you you were a lap sitter.”

Hanbin gasps, then slaps Bobby’s arm. It’s the beginning of a wrestling match, or at least a slap fight, but just then Hanbin’s phone goes off in his pocket.

“Van,” Hanbin explains, and he gets up out of Bobby’s lap and stands. Bobby stands up too, and they get ready to wake everyone up.

\--

They only get a day of recovery between the hotel trip and more promotions, which, as usual, isn’t nearly enough. Hanbin spends about half a day sleeping, and half a day reviewing schedules and looking over interview scripts. 

That evening, when Hanbin’s under the covers, Bobby undresses to his boxers and then crouches by Hanbin’s bedside instead of heading to his own. He flicks Hanbin’s shoulder. “Yo.”

“What a charmer,” Hanbin grouses, rubbing his arm.

Bobby grins. “Scooch over, stud.” 

“We can’t,” Hanbin says morosely. “They’re filming us waking up tomorrow. One of those ‘wake up with iKon’ things.”

Bobby’s brow furrows. “I thought we did that already.”

“We did. A while ago.”

“So aren’t we done?”

Hanbin shakes his head. “You misunderstand. We do it until we die.”

Bobby sighs. “So we can’t even share a bed?”

Hanbin eyes Bobby’s bare chest. “Especially not without clothes.”

Bobby waggles his eyebrows and flexes his biceps in Hanbin’s face. Hanbin rolls his eyes and pretends not to be as genuinely turned on by it as he is.

“Fine,” Bobby says. “Just lemme hold you for a minute and then I’ll hit the lights.”

Hanbin lets Bobby in under the covers, even though he’s not sure if it’s a good idea. 

Indeed, as soon as Bobby lays down and pulls him close, Hanbin realizes that it’s a terrible idea, because now he _really_ doesn’t want to sleep by himself. Bobby cranes his head so that his lips linger against Hanbin’s forehead in a chaste kiss, and something about it feels so intimate that Hanbin’s cheeks heat. 

After a scandalously short amount of time, Bobby announces, “alright then,” drops another kiss on Hanbin’s foreheard, and disentangles himself to turn off the lights and head to his own bed. 

It takes all of Hanbin’s strength not to ask him to come back for just another minute.

\--

Their waking up filming seems to go well. Hanbin doesn’t sleep-walk into Bobby’s bed into the middle of the night, he doesn’t groggily try to battle the producer whose job it is to wake him up, and he doesn’t think he comes out looking gross or too grumpy on camera, which are all good things. He just pulls over his pajamas the closest sweater he finds and heads to the living room to join the members congregated there, while Bobby, of course, doesn’t even put on a shirt once the cameras show up, because he’s totally shameless.

They make the group play two games, including one where they have to guess their own songs based on the dance steps (the results of which slightly embarass all of them). Then they do a short group interview. After, the camera crew says they’ll meet them in an hour at the company building to film dance practice, and heads out. 

As soon as they’re gone, Yunhyeong slides from where where’s sitting with his back against the couch, down to the floor, and passes out again right there. Up behind him, Jinhwan tips over into Junhoe’s lap and does the same. Above Jinhwan, Junhoe’s sitting up but his eyes are closed; Hanbin’s pretty sure he’s been sleeping since partway into filming. 

Hanbin follows suit and slumps into Bobby, who’s sitting beside him on the living room floor. 

“I wanna sleep,” he whines, resting his head in the crook of Bobby’s neck. Bobby wraps an arm around Hanbin’s shoulders and gently pulls him closer to his chest. 

But Hanbin’s leader, after all. So after only one warm, comfortable second, he pulls himself away and stands up. “Let’s go,” he tells the group. “Come on, we’ve got a schedule.”

Everyone stirs, and Hanbin moves to the kitchen to start sorting out which leftovers can be scavenged for breakfast. He can still hear voices in the living room; it sounds like Donghyuk’s corraling Junhoe into moving faster.

“Get moving,” Donghyuk commands, and Junhoe groans. “If the lovebirds can break it up, then you can get your ass off that couch.” 

Hanbin wants to ask what the hell Donghyuk’s talking about, but before he can, Yunhyeong’s asking him about the food he’s unwrapping, then promptly taking a huge portion of it for himself.

_Ask about it later,_ Hanbin tells himself, but he forgets almost immediately.

\--

Hanbin’s laying on his front in bed, browsing on his laptop, when there’s a voice right in his ear. 

“I like it,” Bobby says, “but I don’t know if red is your color.”

Hanbin yelps, slams the laptop shut, then hides his face in his hands. 

Oh god. He was so caught up in what he was looking at that he didn’t even hear Bobby come in. 

“Whatchya doin’?” Bobby teases, climbing onto the bed to lay beside Hanbin. His tone suggests that he knows _exactly_ what Hanbin was doing.

“No,” is all Hanbin says, still hiding.

“Don’t be embarassed.” Bobby nudges at his shoulder. “You know I’m into it.”

“No,” Hanbin repeats.

“I’d be happy to help look, you know,” Bobby continues.

Hanbin makes a noise of irritation. He uncovers his hands from his face and finds Bobby’s smiling right at him.

“Shut up,” Hanbin grouses. “Maybe I was getting those panties for _you,_ did you ever think of that?”

It’s a joke, and Bobby laughs-- totally normal-- but there’s something before the laugh that catches Hanbin’s attention. It’s a pause, a moment where something unfamiliar flits across Bobby’s face.

_Oh._

Feeling abruptly, unusually brave, Hanbin pushes Bobby over onto his back, then sits up and straddles Bobby’s waist.

“Whoa.” Bobby looks amused, but pleased. Hanbin knows what he’s thinking: _this is different._

Hanbin presses his groin down against Bobby’s experimentally, and Bobby bites his lip. 

Hanbin pushes Bobby’s arms up the bed, then pins down his wrists. He knows the older can throw him off, but he doesn’t. Hanbin thinks it has something to do with the cautious, startled excitement look on Bobby’s face.

Smiling, Bobby says, “I think I like--“

“Shut up.” 

Usually Hanbin loves hearing what Bobby has to say-- loves his compliments, his commands, being told he’s good or filthy or both-- but right now, Hanbin wants to try something he never has before. Just for a moment, he wants a taste of the power he usually gives to Bobby.

At Hanbin’s words, Bobby looks shocked. 

_“Shut up,”_ Hanbin repeats, rolling his hips down hard.

Bobby exhales sharply, surprised, but his hips jump.

Hurried, Hanbin undoes Bobby’s pants and pulls out his cock, stroking it to hardness, ignoring Bobby’s squirming and gasps beneath him. Then he pulls out his own, not bothering to tug either of their pants or boxers any lower past their thighs, and begins a punishing rhythm, thrusting down.

Bobby groans and arches up against him, trying to help set the pace, but Hanbin bears down, not giving him any wiggle room. Their movements are sloppy and rough, but Hanbin is ramping them up so rapidly that it doesn’t matter. So quickly Bobby looks flustered, and Hanbin relishes it; he hears words, heated and sharp, falling from his own mouth.

“Say it’s good,” he demands.

“It’s good,” Bobby says immediately.

Hanbin moves one of his hands from where it pins down Bobby’s wrists and shoves Bobby’s shirt up, scratches bright, glaring red lines down his abdomen. It’ll get him in trouble later, but right now he doesn’t care.

“Say you like it.”

“I like it,” Bobby rushes out.

Hanbin’s hair falls down into his eyes. 

“Call me hyung.”

Hanbin doesn’t think the older will do it-- he just wants to see the reaction. Bobby lets out a jumpy half-laugh, hips bucking up to meet Hanbin’s. His eyes flutter shut.

_”Hyung,”_ he gasps.

Something overwhelming flashes through Hanbin-- a rush of power, of satisfaction-- at getting Bobby to obey. He realizes he’s as turned on as he is scandalized by their exchange.

“Again,” Hanbin says.

“Hyung,” Bobby repeats, trying to press his hips up to meet Hanbin’s. Hanbin squeezes his wrists tighter in warning.

“You’re so easy,” Hanbin taunts. Bobby’s mouth falls open. 

He sees Bobby start to say something, probably to curse, but he thinks better of it and bites down on his lip. On the next thrust, Hanbin laughs, feeling high.

“You would love wearing those panties for me,” he tells Bobby. “Bet you’ll be calling me hyung then.”

Beneath him, Bobby stiffens and groans, coming. 

Hanbin presses down harder, holds back his own noise, and a moment later comes too. 

Catching his breath, he collapses onto Bobby. Now he kinda gets why Bobby likes to do that; it’s pretty comfortable. 

“Oh...my...god,” Bobby says beneath him. “Bin.”

Hanbin groans, _exhausted._

Bobby, on the other hand, seems totally awake. “That was something else,” he rambles. “Like, yeah. We gotta do that again. Can we do that again?”

Hanbin enjoyed that, more than he would’ve expected. 

But really-- and he doesn’t want to admit it out loud-- he likes being pushed around more than anything else. He likes having the responsibility and control taken out of his hands, not having to worry for a minute. 

“As long as you go back to being in charge, like, most of the time,” he mumbles.

Bobby’s laugh is gravelly. “Let’s make a deal.” He loops an arm around Hanbin’s back. “Every now and then you do something like that, just surprise me or something, and I’ll be happy to keep you in your place.”

Hanbin nods, ignoring his embarassment. “Deal.” He paws at Bobby’s face gracelessly. “I’ll get that underwear for you,” he promises. 

Beneath Hanbin’s hand, Bobby laughs again. 

\--

Hanbin’s resting in the back of the dance practice room, sitting against the wall, when Yunhyeong offers him a water bottle.

“What do you call a lesbian dinosaur?” he asks as he hands the water over.

Hanbin raises an eyebrow. “A lesbiansarous,” he guesses.

Yunhyeong grins. “A lickalottapuss.”

Hanbin chokes on a laugh. 

Looking supremely proud of himself, Yunhyeong flits away, moving on to the next unsuspecting member.

For the first time since that conversation back before promotions-- the one that had left him thinking he’d lost everything, months ago-- it occurs to Hanbin that everything might actually, really, turn out fine.

\--

It would probably seem strange to some, but Hanbin has always felt that he and Bobby had good disagreements. Especially when it came to music: they could go back and forth, or even outright fight, but it never felt bad, always productive, like they were learning from each other.

The disagreements they have over more mundane things like, say, how to make ramen, are...less generative.

“That’s not what the directions say,” Hanbin insists, crowding into Bobby’s space over the stove. “You have to follow the directions.”

“I know what the directions say,” Bobby says. “The directions are wrong.”

“The directions are _right,”_ Hanbin insists. “That’s why they’re _the directions._ If you just let me--“ he reaches for the packet in Bobby’s hand.

Bobby jerks it away. “Bin! Let me make it.”

“You’re gonna mess it up--“ Hanbin tries for the packet again.

“I have my own recipe,” Bobby says, pulling further back, “I always do it like this.“

“Hyung, you’re gonna mess it up!” 

“Hanbin--will you just--“ Hanbin makes another grab at the packet, and Bobby makes a frustrated noise. “Baby! I’m not gonna mess it up. I’ve made it a million times like this and--“

Bobby keeps talking, gesturing and moving his mouth, but Hanbin can’t hear a word. It’s like he’s on mute.

Eventually Bobby stops and gives Hanbin a funny look. _What,_ his mouth says.

Hanbin snaps out of his haze. “What?”

“I just asked you what,” Bobby says.

“Oh.” 

Hanbin stares at Bobby, looking for a reaction, some sign. But the other just looks confused.

“Nothing,” Hanbin says. “Make it your way.” He leaves the stove and sits down at the table.

\--

Hanbin wakes up on the floor of the practice room. 

Bobby’s lying beside him. Hanbin shifts, and Bobby moves also, waking up.

They’ve got another song that’s just them, Bobby and Hanbin, on this album, and they’ve just started learning the choreography. Though honestly, it’s not so much dancing as synchronized walking, punctuated with a couple well-timed gestures. Still, they need to have it down for an actual practice with backup dancers and possibly also cameras, so they’re here now, running it through a few last times. 

“Did I fall asleep?” Hanbin asks groggily.

_"We_ fell asleep,” Bobby corrects, rubbing at his eyes.

“Ugh.” This is the result of promoting several songs in a row-- it seems like there’ll be some relief in between, but there’s no rest, just more preparation. More practice, more lessons, more interviews. The result is that all of Hanbin’s energy gets sucked out between song promotions, when it feels like he should be resting, but can’t. “Why did we even lay on the floor?”

“We were only gonna lay down for a second,” Bobby recites drowsily. “We should go back home.” He belies his own words by turning over and laying half on-top of Hanbin, apparently ready to fall back asleep. 

“Let’s just move into this room,” Hanbin suggests. “We’ll get all our food delivered, and we can move in a TV. We’ll never have to get up.”

“I like it,” Bobby says, lifting his head. “But where will we shower?”

“I don’t know,” Hanbin says. “Order water with our food, pour it on ourselves. Use napkins for drying off.”

“Hm.” Bobby props himself up on an elbow and looks down at Hanbin appraisingly. “Will we be assisting each other with these ‘showers?’”

Hanbin blanks.

Bobby bursts out laughing.

Hanbin grimaces, and Bobby explains, “You make this face when you’re confused. Where you just freeze, and-- you look so lost.” He laughs again. “It’s cute.”

“Shut up.” Hanbin smacks Bobby’s arm. “I’m not cute. I’m handsome and manly.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t handsome or manly. I just said you were cute.” Bobby winks. “Maybe you’re all three.”

“Shut up,” Hanbin repeats, blushing.

Above him, Bobby smiles that _smile,_ the one that always makes Hanbin’s heart beat a little bit faster. 

Hanbin senses something between them shifting, Bobby’s eyes darkening as his smile seems to get closer. Suddenly, Hanbin feels much more awake. 

“Is the door locked?” he whispers.

Bobby looks up over Hanbin’s head, and nods.

It seems so natural when Bobby runs a hand down Hanbin’s body to cup his thigh, to slide between his legs and palm his crotch through his pants. He looks into Hanbin’s eyes with an expression that’s content as he does it, almost sweet.

Their faces stay close as Bobby strokes Hanbin above his clothing, then undoes his pants and pulls him out of his boxers. Hanbin takes in a shuddering breath and places his hands on the sides of Bobby’s face, holding on as Bobby grips his cock, firm but gentle.

For a moment, Bobby looks like he’s searching Hanbin’s face for something; then his face is out of Hanbin’s hands and he’s moving down to Hanbin’s groin, tugging his pants out of the way and settling between his legs; and then he’s taking the head of Hanbin’s cock into his mouth.

A shock that runs through Hanbin at the realization of what’s happening, at the sensation of Bobby’s mouth hot and wet around him. Bobby moves slowly and carefully, taking more of Hanbin’s cock, then more, and more, until Hanbin feels precome leaking out onto Bobby’s tongue. It feels great, and Hanbin wonders if he’s learned from the times Hanbin’s done this for him. 

Bobby pulls off. “Feels good?” he asks. 

“Feels good,” Hanbin pants. 

Bobby inclines his head to the wall beside them. “Look.”

Hanbin turns and sees their reflections in the mirror wall. 

“Oh, no,” Hanbin whimpers, turning away. _”Hyung.”_

Bobby threads his fingers with Hanbin’s and kisses his knuckles, then dives back down. Hanbin exhales, and builds the courage to look back to their reflections.

He sees his own cock, hard and wet with Bobby’s spit, lying against his stomach. Bobby’s dark hair falls into his eyes as he leans down to lick Hanbin’s from the base to the tip, as his plush lips kiss down it. Hanbin feels hot all over, watching the older bury his face in Hanbin’s groin and then feeling the scrape of teeth on the underside of his cock.

_”Ah,”_ Hanbin pants, and he can _see_ himself reacting and gasping in the mirror, can see the twist of pleasure on his own face. 

Bobby pulls off and takes a breath. He looks to Hanbin for approval, and Hanbin nods again. “You ok?” Hanbin asks.

Bobby nods. He’s got a look of concentration. “Just getting ready for the next thing.” His voice is even raspier than usual. Hanbin’s not sure what he means. 

When Bobby dives back down, he takes almost all of Hanbin’s cock into his mouth.

Hanbin for a second panics, wants to say, _no, you don’t have to do that--_ wants to tell him, _don’t just do it because you think you have to--_ but Bobby catches one of Hanbin’s hands in his own and squeezes, and somehow, it’s all the reassurance Hanbin needs.

Bobby guides Hanbin’s hand into his hair, one and then the other. He swallows Hanbin down again, and again, and again. 

When Hanbin feels himself getting close, he yanks on Bobby’s hair in warning. But Bobby doesn’t move off, just hums around Hanbin’s cock, and Hanbin gasps, his back arching off the floor as he comes. Bobby takes it in, keeping his mouth on Hanbin throughout, then waiting to be sure Hanbin is finished before pulling off. 

Then, he’s immediately back on top of Hanbin, every part of them pressing together, and Hanbin automatically reaches down and undoes Bobby’s pants, pulls out his achingly hard cock, and strokes him, feeling the slick of precome. Their eyes stay locked, and they’re so close, and Hanbin can see everything on Bobby’s face as he comes undone. Hanbin realizes that he’d much rather see this-- Bobby falling apart up close-- than anything else he could catch in the mirror. 

Bobby looks at Hanbin so intently, and his breathing quickens, and his eyes screw shut, and he bites his lip, and finally he rests his forehead against Hanbin’s and comes into Hanbin’s hand.

Hanbin lifts his hand to his mouth and licks the come off his fingers, watching Bobby as he does it. Bobby’s eyes goes wide. When Hanbin’s hand is clean, Bobby grabs it, holds it tight in his own, and _kisses_ Hanbin on the mouth, presses against him so hard that Hanbin’s senses are flooded and he’s left breathless. 

Bobby pulls away, and when he speaks, he looks sheepish.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do it earlier,” he says. “When you were doing it for me this whole time. I’ve been thinking about it for forever. I just wanted to do a good job.”

It’s so endearing, and Hanbin can’t hold back the flurry of affection that rushes through him. It’s just like the night at the hotel, when Hanbin had worn the lingerie, those moments when he’d felt like he’d never been closer to another person in his life.

“It’s okay,” Hanbin says, and Bobby looks relieved. He kisses Hanbin’s palm.

“Should we get outta here?” he asks. “I liked your plan for living here, but then I remembered there’s no bathroom. Like, with a toilet.”

“Gross,” Hanbin says, but Bobby just shrugs. He sits up, and helps Hanbin up too. 

“Yeah,” Hanbin agrees, still holding Bobby’s hand, “let’s go.” 

\--

“Hanbin-ssi.” Jinhwan points a spoon meaningfully at the younger’s face, brandishing it like a microphone. “Is it true that your new single with Bobby-ssi will have a pole dancing concept? Before you answer, please think about what the fans would want.”

Hanbin leans forward to speak into the spoon. 

“I am not at liberty to comment at this time,” he says gravely.

“What do the interview cards say?” Donghyuk calls down the table. Chanwoo and Yunhyeong snicker.

“Bobby-ssi?” Jinhwan says, pivoting the spoon to him.

“As of right now, I can only confirm that glitter will be involved,” Bobby says.

“I’ve seen the dance practices,” Yunhyeong contributes, nodding. “After School better watch out. ”

Jinhwan pivots the spoon back. “Please tell us more about how you learned those dance moves, Hanbin-ssi,” he says.

“Well,” Hanbin muses, “it was made much easier by my vast experience working with poles.”

Everyone freezes. 

For a second, Hanbin panics.

And then they all burst out laughing.

Hanbin grins and gives them all a thumbs up, which is not really cool of him, but no one calls him on it.

Down the table, Bobby winks. Hanbin can’t help but smile back.

\--

In their room, Hanbin’s falling asleep in Bobby’s arms, wearing that worn old sweater that’s way too big for him, when Bobby suddenly speaks.

“You ever think about,” he begins, then stops.

Hanbin shifts. “Hm?”

Bobby exhales. “You ever think about what you’re gonna do after all this?”

“All what?” Hanbin murmurs.

“You know,” Bobby says. “Music. Our careers.”

Hanbin cracks an eye open. 

“Kind of,” he says. 

Honestly, though, he tries not to. Hanbin’s already stressed all the time about now; so, he knows better than to spend too much time dwelling on the after. That’s just stress compounded. 

“Probably produce, y’know?” Hanbin adds. “Write, teach trainees. Something with music.”

“Yeah,” Bobby says, but it’s not very committed. The silence between them is heavy.

“Were you thinking about it?” Hanbin prompts. It feels like he’s missing something.

“I don’t know,” Bobby says, sounding conflicted. “I just-- I feel like it would be nice to have a family.” He fidgets. “Settle down. That wouldn’t be so bad, right?”

“Right,” Hanbin says carefully. 

Really, though, Hanbin’s plan has always been music, without much thought for anything else. So he actually doesn’t have an imaginary spouse or kids that he looks forward to. But that doesn’t mean it won’t make some people happy. If having a family is what someone wants, if that’s what _Bobby_ wants, then Hanbin can understand that.

“Whatever,” Bobby says, signaling he’s done with the conversation. There’s something to his tone that suggests he’s out of sorts, maybe frustrated with himself, but Hanbin decides not to push it. He’s drowsy and it doesn’t sound like Bobby wants to talk more anyway.

“Maybe we should sleep,” Hanbin suggests.

“You go ahead,” Bobby says. “I’m good. You can sleep on me.”

“You sure?” Hanbin asks. Bobby won’t get much sleep if he’s holding Hanbin in this position, and if he does, he’ll probably wake up feeling awful.

“Yeah,” Bobby says. “I’ll be fine.”

“Alright,” Hanbin says. His eyes slip shut. “Night, hyung.”

Bobby kisses the top of his head. “Night Bin.”

\--

It’s not until the next evening, as Hanbin’s brushing his teeth before bed, that he realizes what Bobby meant.

Have a family, settle down, have kids. With someone. 

With a woman he meets after his time as an idol has ended. Or, maybe, has already met. Getting a little house and a dog, and living happily ever after with kids and a wife. 

That’s Bobby’s plan, what we really wants for himself.

Hanbin stares at himself in the bathroom mirror, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth, and feels more foolish than he ever has in his life.

\--

Something’s off.

Everyone’s doing their moves right, everyone’s moving in sync, but it still doesn’t seem correct. Caged into the dance practice room, Hanbin looks for flaws in the group’s formation, for any mistake at all, but he can’t find any, and for some reason, it infuriates him. 

_You ever think about what you’re gonna do after all this?_

Hanbin’s anger feeds an itch under his skin that won’t let up, spreading and spreading, pushing him to the edge. It’s starting to feel like a moment where Bobby would tell him to back off and give the group a break, but Hanbin doesn’t want to think about what Bobby would say. He doesn’t want to think about anyone’s opinions. No, he wants to _soak_ in his anger.

“Again,” Hanbin snaps, and everyone looks exhausted, even irritated, but they move back into their places.

_You ever think about what you’re gonna do after all this?_

“Wait, wait, pause,” Donghyuk calls just as the song starts back up, “My shoe’s undone.” The music pauses, and Donghyuk bends down to tie his laces. Everyone just stands there waiting, looking impatient, and for some reason, it singes something inside Hanbin. Suddenly, his breath is quickening and his vision is losing focus.

“Hyung?” Donghyuk asks, looking at Hanbin. 

They’re all looking at Hanbin, waiting for the cue to restart the music. 

“Hey, hyung?” Donghyuk repeats.

Hanbin starts to feel the familiar pull of panic, yanking his heart down through his body and towards the floor. They can all see, they’ll all _know--_ and it’s too late. 

Jinhwan’s eyes narrow. “Hanbin,” he says, suspicious.

The others turn to look. Their stares are weighted, crushing against Hanbin’s limbs and chest.

“Hyung?” Chanwoo asks nervously.

Suddenly, Bobby speaks up. “Everyone out.” 

Donghyuk clamors into Hanbin’s space, and he thinks he sees Junhoe in his periphery as well, striding over to check on him.

“Everyone _out,”_ Bobby repeats in a voice that Hanbin has only ever heard him use once or twice.

There’s a pause, and then several pairs of feet file out. The door shuts after them.

“Bin,” Bobby says once they’re alone, and Hanbin feels Bobby’s hand on his shoulder.

Hanbin jolts. “No,” he gasps, trying to move away. 

It’s a waste of his energy-- he can never make it far when he feels like his heart’s slamming against his ribs hard enough to snap them-- but he tries anyway. Because he doesn’t want to be touched or comforted or talked to. He wants to run away, he wants to escape, he wants to _die,_ he wants anything but to have this panic attack in this room right now.

Bobby follows; he keeps gently touching Hanbin’s back and arms. “Hanbin, please let me,” he pleads.

Hanbin knows there’s a window in the door. The other members are all probably looking in now, watching Hanbin have a breakdown because he has to be so fucking weak. He made it all the way to this company so he could be part of this group and have dance practice in this room, and now he’s going to have a panic attack in it like the worthless piece of shit he is.

Hanbin heads to a corner of the room, trying to distance himself from the door as much as possible, but eventually he doesn’t have any strength left. He leans against the nearest wall in a vain attempt to stay upright for another second, and then he slides to the floor. 

“Bin!” Bobby’s there, trying to hold him. 

Hanbin fights back, hitting Bobby’s arms and even scratching at one of his hands. 

Bobby doesn’t let up. “Bin,” he says, desperate. 

Finally, Bobby overpowers Hanbin and locks both arms around him from behind. Hanbin tries to escape, he really does, but his body’s priority has become shaking with panic, not protecting itself. He feels something awful tear through him, through his whole body until it collects around his heart, seeping in deeper, deeper, deeper.

“Let go,” Hanbin cries, and he realizes there are tears running down his face. “Let _go.”_

Bobby doesn’t. His grip is strong, and Hanbin’s pleas turn into whimpers. “Let go,” he sobs. “Let go, let go--“

“Hanbin, Hanbin, Hanbin,” Bobby whispers to him, right up against Hanbin’s cheek. “Hanbin, I love you, you’re safe.” 

Hanbin cries so hard that it physically hurts. 

Caught up in his sobs, he finally gives up fighting and slumps into Bobby’s arms. He holds on to Bobby’s hands where they’re crossed at his front and he waits and waits and waits as the panic sinks into him thoroughly. It takes forever to ebb away.

When Hanbin is finally able to take a full, real deep breath again, he realizes that Bobby’s shaking as well. His cheek is wet where it presses against Hanbin’s.

“Hyung,” Hanbin pants, squeezing one of Bobby’s arms to get his attention.

“I’m sorry,” Bobby says, voice heavy with emotion. “I’m sorry.”

“Hyung, no.” Hanbin digs his fingers into Bobby’s wrist.

Bobby exhales sharply. “I wasn’t going to let this happen again. I was supposed to protect you. Fuck.” His hold tightens on Hanbin. “I’m sorry. I fucked up, I’m sorry.”

“No, hyung--“ 

Bobby shakes his head, resigned. 

Hanbin raises a shaky hand to Bobby’s cheek. The older turns his face into Hanbin’s palm and doesn’t say anything.

\--

After some back and forth, Bobby gets Hanbin to just leave the building and head back to the dorm. Hanbin did put up a fight to stay and finish practice, but it was weak, and Bobby wasn’t having it anyway. So, Hanbin hides in his hoodie and lets Bobby walk him out, promising to check back in and make sure that practice goes alright without him.

As soon as Hanbin’s back in the dorms, he goes right to bed. The effects of his panic on top of all his other exhaustion, it seems, knocks him right out, unlike the last attack, which kept him up for hours. Before he falls sleep, though, he realizes that he hasn’t had a panic attack since that one in front of Bobby all those months ago. Months-- possibly a new record for Hanbin. Though, now it feels like it all means nothing.

\--

Hanbin can see the members regarding him a little wearily in the days following-- like he might break into a panic attack again in front of them-- and Bobby tries to talk to him about it a couple times after. But Hanbin brushes it all off, and anyway, there isn’t much time to dwell on it when their goodbye stage is upon them.

Their last performance for the album is really, really good. The group does spectacularly, full of energy and excitement, buoyed by the fanchants and lightsticks waving in the crowd. Hanbin almost gets emotional as they bow off the stage. Sometimes, he really can’t believe that people come to see them perform, that they know the words and the dance moves, that they love the music the group makes; it’s surreal.

The good mood follows the group back to the dorm, where Junhoe immediately turns on loud music and Donghyuk runs to raid the stashed booze to bring back to the group, and everyone else starts celebrating. 

Just as things are getting started, though, Bobby asks for a moment alone with Hanbin in their room.

As soon as they gets there, Bobby ambushes Hanbin with a hug.

“I just wanted you to myself for a second,” Bobby says happily, squeezing Hanbin.

Hanbin quells the pang he feels at that. “I’m here,” he says.

Bobby pulls back to smile at him.

“We did it,” he says, grinning.

Hanbin’s ridiculous heart, like always, beats a little faster. “We did it.”

Bobby does this funny thing where he chases after Hanbin’s mouth with his own, swaying back and forth until they connect, and Hanbin thinks, _let it go for just this moment, enjoy yourself for just this,_ and gives himself over.

The kiss deepens and Hanbin feels himself go warm, turning hot when Bobby yanks him forward, pressing their bodies close. Bobby’s hands slide down the small of Hanbin’s back down to his ass, cupping him through his jeans, and Hanbin pants into Bobby’s mouth, grabs onto whatever of Bobby’s clothing that he can reach. 

When Bobby slides his tongue against Hanbin’s and Hanbin moans, clutching at the fabric of Bobby’s clothes and pushing his hips closer, Bobby tears away.

“On the bed,” he says, voice rough. 

Hanbin inhales, exhales, and extricates himself from the other, then backs up to the mattress and sits down. 

“Clothes off,” Bobby says.

Hanbin immediately begins stripping. Bobby starts too, but he stops after only pulling off his shirt, electing instead to watch Hanbin undress. Hanbin continues until he’s naked, laying back, waiting.

”Hyung,” Hanbin complains, when Bobby just keeps watching him. The older seems amused, until Hanbin whines, _”Bobby,”_ and then his look darkens.

He lowering himself down onto the bed over Hanbin, caging him in. Then he grips Hanbin’s jaw hard to force his mouth open, thrusting his tongue in. Hanbin moans, welcoming the intrusion. The kiss breaks and he bites Hanbin’s lower lip; Hanbin revels in the sting.

The older runs his fingers over Hanbin’s lips tantalizing, then hooks two fingers into Hanbin’s mouth; Hanbin sucks on them eagerly. 

When Bobby removes his fingers, wet with Hanbin’s spit, he moves them down, down, down Hanbin’s body, to his hole. 

“Who fucks you?” he asks huskily, right into Hanbin’s ear. “Who fucks you, baby, huh?”

“You,” Hanbin gasps, squirming to meet Bobby’s fingers. “You, you--“ 

Bobby moves his hand away from Hanbin’s hole and slaps his ass, hard. The sound is loud in the room. “Say it.”

Hanbin feels a sort of hysterical reaction bubbling up inside himself, his breath snagging on something between a laugh and a sob. 

“Say it,” Bobby repeats.

“You fuck me,” Hanbin pants. _“Fuck,_ Bobby--“

“That’s right,” Bobby says. 

Bobby asks for the lube. Hanbin quickly retrieves it, but Bobby doesn’t take it. 

Instead, he says, “prep yourself.”

Hanbin freezes. “What?”

Bobby raises an eyebrow and sits back, waiting. 

He’s not kidding.

So, Hanbin does it.

Bobby watches openly, unashamedly, as the younger spreads lube on his own fingers. Hanbin, on the other hand, feels overwhelming embarassment as he hesitantly presses them at his entrance. He’s done this by himself before, but only a few times, and even _then_ he was embarassed. Now, drawing his knees up for better access, in front of another person, he feels the burn of something illicit but _so_ arousing, pushing him to continue. He burns even more when Bobby lowers his head down to rest against the inside of Hanbin’s thigh, taking a front row seat to the show. 

Hanbin takes a deep breath and presses in a finger. It takes adjustment-- at this point he’s used to Bobby’s fingers doing this, though he tries not to think about that too much-- and when it stops stinging he presses in another, moving them carefully. Bobby watches, and Hanbin feels intoxicated, caught in the heady rush of putting himself on display.

He’s just starting to get into it, riding two of his own fingers, when there’s an added pressure, and Hanbin starts. 

It’s one of Bobby’s fingers, pressing in as well. Hanbin gasps. 

Bobby pushes in slowly, giving Hanbin time to adjust. As he does it, Hanbin bites down on his lip and breathes carefully until he thinks he can move again. Now they’re both inside. 

When Hanbin starts back up, Bobby picks up on the pace and joins in so that they’re thrusting together. 

“Good,” Bobby praises him softly. “Good boy.”

There’s something so fucking hot about the both of them moving inside Hanbin like this. The sensation rides the edge of too much and not enough, but it tips over into something completely overwhelming when Bobby guides their fingers to brush against Hanbin’s prostate. Hanbin cries out, riding harder, trying to pull them both in deeper. 

“Feels good?” Bobby asks, and Hanbin nods frantically.

Bobby guides them both to press against Hanbin’s prostate again, and Hanbin whimpers.

“I got you.” Bobby’s voice is rough but reassuring. “Don’t worry, baby, I got you.”

Hanbin nods again, shutting his eyes. He’s starting to shake, feeling sweat bead on his forehead; he can feel himself getting close. 

Then Bobby is guiding both of their fingers out, away from Hanbin’s entrance. He moves up, bracing himself over Hanbin, his breath coming a little fast.

“I,” Bobby says, “I wanted to-- did you--“ he moves their bodies closer so that they’re almost flush, so that Bobby’s cock presses near Hanbin’s hole. It takes Hanbin a moment to realize what he’s asking.

Hanbin nods. 

Bobby gets closer, carefully lining himself up with Hanbin, and Hanbin is shaking again. He’s so nervous. 

But Bobby is right there, soothing him, saying something Hanbin can’t even make out, noises to keep him calm. He pushes in slowly, and Hanbin inhales sharply at the feel of Bobby’s cock breaching him. Bobby moves forward little by little, so gently and slowly, until he’s entirely inside, and Hanbin feels stretched, and their foreheads are pressed together as they inhale and exhale together, in and out. 

For weeks-- _months--_ now, Hanbin’s been thinking about this while trying not to, pushing away both his anticipation and anxiety, wondering if they would ever do this, even dreaming of it a couple times. 

And in a sense, it’s exactly what Hanbin expected. The slide is hot and tight, filling him up, and it feels _great,_ it feels _incredible._

But in another, it’s totally different from what he expected, because it makes them so _close._ They’re closer than Hanbin could’ve imagined, closer than they’ve ever been before, and it’s terrifying. Hanbin feels exposed and vulnerable, like he would just fall apart if Bobby wasn’t holding him together.

Still hushed, still soothing, Bobby tells him, “I move when you move.” 

Hanbin lets his eyes slip shut as he carefully rolls his hips up. At this, Bobby pulls back a bit and then pushes forward, and it feels _amazing._ Suddenly, Hanbin’s brimming with an emotion that he can’t name, trying to quell some reaction from himself that he can’t predict. 

Bobby slides _in_ and it sends sparks up Hanbin’s spine, he slides _out_ and Hanbin moans. It repeats, again and again, as Hanbin starts to fall apart. “Good?” Bobby pants, and Hanbin nods, feeling the sting of tears in his eyes. 

As Bobby ramps us his thrusts, he threads his fingers into Hanbin’s hair and grabs, yanking Hanbin’s head back. He bites down harshly on Hanbin’s bottom lip then nips at his jaw, stinging but sweet. “That’s right,” Bobby pants. “I fuck you, baby.”

_”God,”_ Hanbin says, pushing back to meet Bobby’s thrusts.

Their shared breaths are shuddery, hot against each other’s faces. Bobby’s next thrust presses his cock right up against Hanbin’s prostate, and Hanbin’s hips jerk. Hanbin clenches, and Bobby moans. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he breathes. He aims his next thrust at Hanbin’s prostate, and Hanbin gasps. His hips are nearly lifted off the mattress when Bobby presses in harder, and he wraps himself around Bobby, holding on tight.

“Bobby,” Hanbin whines, _”please.”_

Bobby anchors a hand on Hanbin’s hip, and thrusts in so that his cock presses in so hard, so perfectly, so good that it’s almost too much. “Come on, baby,” he urges, and Hanbin shouts as he comes, untouched, shooting onto his own stomach and clenching around Bobby’s cock again and again.

Bobby groans at the sensation, and bottoms out on his next thrust, burying his face in Hanbin’s neck as he comes inside him. _”Bin,”_ he whimpers, shaking above Hanbin, and Hanbin holds him even tighter, fists a hand in Bobby’s hair as he rides it out. Hanbin moans at the aftershocks, at Bobby’s last stuttering thrusts that lead Hanbin to overstimulation.

“Bin,” Bobby repeats, still breathing harshly, as he pulls back to face Hanbin. He breathes the name into the space between them it like it’s the secret to everything. “Bin.”

They kiss, and Hanbin’s heart feels painfully full. Bobby nuzzles at his face, and Hanbin paws back at Bobby’s cheeks gracelessly, keeping him close.

“Bin,” Bobby says a fourth time, and he lays down on top of the other, his eyes shutting as he rests his head back in the crook of Hanbin’s neck. Hanbin runs a thumb over Bobby’s bottom lip, and Bobby makes a pout to kiss the pad of his finger. 

“You make me so happy, baby,” he murmurs against Hanbin’s thumb.

A wave of emotion, aching and bittersweet, surges through Hanbin. 

He can’t do this anymore.

“Bobby,” he whispers.

“Mm.” But Bobby’s already half-asleep, gone from the conversation. 

Hanbin’s voice shakes. “We have to stop.” He lets the tears slip down his face.

Bobby doesn’t hear him; he’s out cold.

“We have to stop,” Hanbin repeats, even quieter.

One more night, Hanbin will let them sleep like this. 

And then, that’s it.

\--

The next day, Hanbin avoids Bobby as much as he can. He thinks Bobby can tell something’s up, but that might also be him projecting, his imagination calling him out for what he’s planning to do. 

By the evening, though, he can’t hide any longer. Heading back to their room in the dorm after dinner, Hanbin realizes this is it. 

He’s standing by his bed when he feels Bobby come up behind him and crowd into his space, familiar, casual, laying a hand on Hanbin’s hip.

“Don’t,” Hanbin says. 

When Bobby doesn’t hear, Hanbin repeats, _”don’t.”_

Bobby pulls back. “You okay?” He moves so that he can see Hanbin’s face.

Hanbin suddenly can’t look Bobby in the eye. “I’m fine.” 

Bobby eyes him curiously. “You sure?”

_Just get it over with._

“I don’t think we should fuck anymore,” Hanbin says, to a spot on the wall.

In Hanbin’s periphery, Bobby freezes. 

“What?” he asks. “Why?”

“We just shouldn’t,” Hanbin says.

Bobby’s brow furrows. “If there’s a problem, Bin, you can just tell me--“

“What,” Hanbin snarls, “haven’t you learned enough?”

Bobby reels back. 

It takes him a second to gather his words. “It’s not about that.”

“Then what’s it about?” Hanbin snaps.

Bobby can’t come up with an answer-- he tries, but he can’t, and he looks at Hanbin helplessly. 

For the first time in a long time, Hanbin’s reminded of how young Bobby is-- how young they _both_ are-- by how vulnerable and terrified Bobby looks. His expression begs Hanbin not to do this. 

Too late.

“Let’s just stop,” Hanbin says. 

Bobby looks away, blinking rapidly. “Okay.”

And because he can’t see Bobby cry, Hanbin leaves the room.

\--

It’ll be fine; what they were doing, it wasn’t really anything anyway. They got carried away with a silly idea, and now it’s over. So it doesn’t matter. 

That’s what Hanbin tells himself.

Either way, promotions will be officially over soon. He’s not looking forward to being cramped into the spaceof the dorm with Bobby, but once this album is done, Hanbin can escape. Maybe he can get away from the dorms, go see his family-- or, if necessary, he can turn inward and hide in plain sight while around the others. Maybe he can switch rooms with someone. 

Maybe he can run away.

He just has to stick it out for a while. It’ll be fine. 

\--

Actually, though, Bobby runs away before Hanbin can.

After the conversation, Hanbin spends the night at the studio, sitting awake and staring at nothing. Once the sun rises, he alternates between sequestering himself away in different parts of the company building and wandering around a few of city blocks adjacent, hidden under a hoodie and a face mask.

When he bites the bullet and heads back to the dorm in the late evening, though, Bobby is nowhere to be found.

“He went home for a while,” Jinhwan explains, when Hanbin seeks him out to ask. “He’ll be back in a week or two.”

The way he says it suggests that he knows something went down between them, and that he’s not very pleased with the role Hanbin played. Further back in their room, Junhoe sits at his desk and directs a similar facial expression at Hanbin. Hanbin can’t say he blames them.

“Right,” Hanbin says. “Thanks.” He heads back to his room.

\--

On his second night alone in the room, Hanbin decides to channel his restless energy into cleaning. It’s not like he’s not going to sleep anyway. 

He goes to town on the entire half of the space that’s technically his: he clears his desk, picks all of the junk off the floor, and re-organizes his closet, setting aside clothing to be washed. He means to strip his bed too, to wash the sheets and blankets and maybe even put new ones on. But as he’s pulling the cases off of his pillows, he finds something scrunched up beneath them.

It’s the sweater-- the green, oversized one, that Bobby had given Hanbin to wear not that long ago, when he’d vowed to get Hanbin to tell him his fantasy. Hanbin had worn it a handful of times after when it was just them in the room, together, usually wrapped around each other.

Hanbin _knows_ he shouldn’t, he _knows_ he should get rid of it-- but he just can’t put it down. He doesn’t think he could if his life depended on it. 

He pulls it over his head, feeling that soothing second of the fabric passing over his face, lulling him for just a moment, and then he’s drowning in it, as always, the sleeves hanging on his hands down past the knuckle. 

Hanbin exhales harshly, feeling somehow both incredibly relieved and even more pained now that he’s wearing it. Suddenly all he wants to do is lay down and wrap himself in a blanket and not move for as long as possible. So he does, folding himself up under his covers and closing his eyes. 

Hanbin raises his wrists to his face, covered by the cuffs of the sweater, and inhales. The fabric muffles the dry sob that escapes his lips.

Hanbin wears the sweater to bed that night. And the next, and the next. When he wears it, he sleeps. Not well, not restfully-- but he sleeps.

\--

A couple days later, to mark the official end of this round of promotions, management throws a huge party. 

The company decks out one of the fancier floors of the building and invites a ton of people, keeping the drinks and music flowing all evening. It’s nice to see some familiar faces, and the rest of the group seems to be having a pretty good time, but Hanbin isn’t much in the mood. 

After he’s greeted and small talked with a million people, and the party finally seems to be winding down, Hanbin gives himself a break and flees to the balcony. 

Thankfully, the space he picked is empty, and it’s really beautiful: glass panels instead of bars around the perimeter, nice furniture to lounge on, and an amazing view of the city skyline. He settles himself down on one of the benches, reminding himself that he has to make it short; as leader, he’s not allowed to disappear for long at events like this.

After a minute or so, Chanwoo peeks his head around the side of the door to the balcony.

“Hyung?”

“Ey, kid,” Hanbin greets. 

Chanwoo says “hey, hyung,” and heads onto the balcony, taking a seat beside Hanbin. 

They sit in silence for a while. Hanbin admittedly feels like shit, but he feels a little better to see the maknae, even if they don’t talk. Chanwoo comments, “almost over in there,” and Hanbin nods.

When Chanwoo speaks again, it’s very slowly, like he’s picking each word as he goes. 

“Hyung,” he begins. “I just...wanted you to...know that,” his hands fidget, “...that I don’t care, um,” he looks down at his lap, “I don’t care that you, that you, you know.”

Hanbin stares.

“That you,” Chanwoo gestures awkwardly, “with men.”

It takes Hanbin a second. “Ah.”

Chanwoo exhales. “It freaked me out at first, but now I get that it’s not a big deal. So, I’m sorry if I was...um, a dick about it.”

Hanbin feels surprise. 

And then, something like...relief. A weight lifts from his entire body that he didn’t even know he was carrying.

“Thank you,” Hanbin says. It’s not quite the right thing to say, but it doesn’t matter, anyway, right now.

Chanwoo nods.

They sit in silence again.

“And, I’m sorry you and Bobby-hyung broke up,” Chanwoo adds.

Hanbin stills.

The looks he directs at Chanwoo must be stunned enough for Chanwoo to fill in the spaces.

“How did I know?” Chanwoo supplies.

Hanbin nods numbly.

“Um,” Chanwoo says awkwardly, “it was kind of obvious.”

“We aren’t in a relationship,” Hanbin rushes out. _“Weren’t._ We weren’t in a relationship.”

Chanwoo’s eyebrows raise. 

“We _weren’t,”_ Hanbin repeats.

“Are you sure?” Chanwoo asks skeptically.

Hanbin makes a face. Chanwoo makes surrender hands. 

“Well, it seemed like you were,” he says.

At whatever he sees on Hanbin’s face, he tries to explain.

“You guys got a certain way with each other...” he makes a sort of sweeping gesture. “Like, you could just tell you were...you know,” he’s clearly careful not to say anything that might dredge up difficult feelings for Hanbin, “...having feelings.”

Hanbin exhales, and nods.

“Also, though,” Chanwoo says, “one evening when you weren’t there, we all got drunk, and Bobby-hyung told me that he wanted to have kids with you.”

Hanbin thinks he feels the entire world stop.

For the second time in their conversation, he’s too floored to even say anything.

“Yeah, I mean,” Chanwoo continues, looking a little embarassed himself, “I really was just asking him what kind of pizza he wanted, but, you know...” 

_Jesus._ “When,” Hanbin says.

“Uh, a month ago, maybe?” Chanwoo speculates. “You were at the studio, I think. And he only told me. Since I was getting the pizza orders,” Chanwoo explains, voice quieting.

“Oh,” Hanbin breathes.

They look at the city skyline for another long moment. Hanbin feels like he’s been plunged into a realization, practically drowning in it.

“Well,” Chanwoo says, abruptly cheery, “maybe it sucks now, but I’m sure everything will work out, and you’ll feel better soon.”

“I...” Hanbin struggles, confused, “I don’t know if I deserve to, honestly.”

“Hyung.” Chanwoo’s brow furrows. “What do you mean? You deserve to feel better.”

Hanbin shakes his head.

Chanwoo is perplexed. “But you do. You’re a good person.”

Hanbin looks away, feel tears prick at his eyes.

“Chanwoo-yah,” he says. “Please don’t.”

“I mean it, hyung,” Chanwoo says. He shifts, trying to catch Hanbin’s eye. “Respectfully,” he says, and Hanbin almost laughs, “you’re not perfect, but you’re a really good person.”

Chanwoo stands, and cuffs Hanbin on the shoulder before he leaves, heading back in to the party. 

On the balcony, Hanbin folds in on himself, and, for the first time since his last conversation with Bobby, he lets himself cry.

\--

Early the next evening, Hanbin returns to the dorm after spending the day in the studio to discover no one’s there. 

Except for Bobby.

He’s sitting on the floor of their room, his back resting against his own be. Hanbin’s so surprised when he opens the door and sees him that he can’t help a “oh-- hi.”

Face blank, all Bobby does is nod.

Not really knowing what else to do, Hanbin heads to his side of the room and puts down his bag.

“Where is everyone?” he asks.

“Out for dinner.”

“Oh,” Hanbin says.

“I wanted to stay in,” Bobby says, “since I just got back,” and Hanbin wonders why the hell he’s talking to Hanbin, suddenly sharing information like everything’s cool between them.

Hanbin waits.

“I wasn’t trying to look,” Bobby says, his voice strangely thin. “But I just came in and...” He’s holding something in his lap, a piece of clothing, Hanbin thinks. Bobby holds it up.

It’s the sweater.

Hanbin burns with humiliation. _Fuck,_ he should’ve hid it better. No, he should’ve put it back with Bobby’s things. He shouldn’t have kept it at all.

“It was sticking out from under your pillow.” Bobby lowers the sweater to the floor. “Sorry,” he says softly.

He stands, and he makes to leave the room. 

Before he can get to the door, though, something snaps inside Hanbin. 

He steps in front of Bobby, blocking him.

“I thought you wanted to settle down,” Hanbin blurts, “after all this.”

Bobby’s brow furrows. “I do.”

“I thought you wanted to get married.”

Confusion is etched on Bobby’s tear-stained face. “I do.”

“I thought you wanted to have kids.”

“I _do,”_ Bobby insists, bewildered.

Hanbin’s voice shakes. He prepares himself to hear the name of the person Bobby really wants. “Then with who?” 

“With YOU, you asshole!” Bobby cries. “Who the hell else?”

Hanbin thinks his heart stops. 

“I thought _you_ didn’t want that stuff with _me,”_ Bobby says.

“Well I DO,” Hanbin nearly shouts back. 

Bobby looks stunned. 

Hanbin continues, “But I thought you wanted someone else!” At Bobby’s expression, he fumbles, “I don’t know, just whoever! Anyone else!”

Bobby looks baffled. “Hanbin,” he says, sounding genuinely perplexed, “who on earth could I want more than I want you?”

Hanbin shakes his head, overwhelmed. 

“I just,” Hanbin tries, “I’m not...”

Bobby asks, “Not what?” 

Hanbin can’t answer, but Bobby seems to get it anyway. He pauses. 

Then, he surges forward, cupping Hanbin’s face in his hands. Hanbin inhales sharply. 

“Hanbin,” he says, “Don’t you fucking tell me you’re not good enough, or you can’t be loved, because _I love you,_ Hanbin. I am in love with you.” 

Hanbin reminds himself to breathe.

“I _know_ you, and I love you,” Bobby says. “I have loved you from day one.”

“Hyung,” Hanbin whispers.

“I should’ve told you earlier,” Bobby says. “It took me so long to figure it out, and then I thought if I told you I’d lose you. And I just-- wanted to be around you so bad, I...”

“Bobby,” Hanbin says, and at Hanbin’s tone, Bobby’s expression shifts so that he’s looking at Hanbin with heartbreaking fondness. 

“Bin,” he says, in that way that melts Hanbin’s name into an answer instead of a question. Hanbin clutches at the front of Bobby’s sweater, knees nearly going weak. Soft, Bobby says, “You’re my baby. You know that, right?”

Hanbin’s shaking as he nods. Bobby exhales loudly.

Hanbin trembles as he pushes forward to press his mouth against Bobby’s. When they meet, the simplest of contact, the feeling of _rightness_ slams into Hanbin like a truck. Bobby’s hands fist in the back of Hanbin’s shirt, for all intents and purposes holding him up.

Hanbin draws back to take a breath, resting his forehead against Bobby’s. 

“I love you too,” he confesses, hushed. 

Bobby’s arms tighten around him. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Hanbin confirms, “and I’m sorry. That I sucked.”

“I’m sorry too,” Bobby says. “But it’s okay.” A pause. “You’re very good at sucking.”

Hanbin’s jaw drops. “Oh my god, _hyung,”_ he groans.

“What!” Bobby gives a watery laugh. “You thought I was just gonna let that one go?!” 

“Bobby,” Hanbin says, trying to sound chastizing, but he’s laughing too. Bobby playfully pecks him on the nose.

“You want to do this?” Bobby asks. “Like, for real, you want to do this?”

Hanbin doesn’t need any time to think. “Yes.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” Bobby grins, and Hanbin kisses him again.

\--

“I will not tell you again,” Hanbin says. “That is _not_ how you make it.”

“You complain every time I make it,” Bobby points out, “but then once it’s made, it mysteriously disappears, and then I don’t hear any more complaining for a while. Every time.” He arches a brow. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“We live with five other men,” Hanbin fronts. “Anyone could be eating it--“

“Right, right,” Bobby agrees, with mock sympathy.

“You know, these kids are very disrespectful, you can never tell with them--“

“Alright, alright,” Bobby rolls his eyes. “I give up. So go ahead, show me how it’s done, Mr. Ramen Expert.”

Hanbin grins. “I _will.”_ He snatches the packet from Bobby, then fills a pot with water and puts it on the stove. 

As he stirs, he feels Bobby’s arms wrap around his waist from behind him.

“Hey,” Hanbin says, feeling his cheeks pink. It’s going to take some getting used to, receiving affection so openly like this, but he’s more pleased than embarassed. Bobby wraps around him closer, dropping a kiss on Hanbin’s cheek. 

Hanbin jolts when he hears the front door swing open, and several pairs of feet trudge in through the dorm entrance.

“But she didn’t say that-- oh, hey Bobby, hey Bin,” Yunhyeong says, when he spots them cuddling in front of the stove. The rest of the members file into the kitchen after him.

Bobby and Hanbin stand there, frozen.

“Um, hey. Guys,” Hanbin squeaks. 

He isn’t going to move. Hanbin has decided how to deal with this already. Everyone is going to know that he and Bobby are together, and if someone’s got an issue, then they’ll just have to get over it.

“Anyway,” Yunhyeong says, turning back to the others. “She didn’t say that they would be filming, so I asked if they would reschedule and she said--“

Bobby clears his throat, and everyone turns back to look at him and Hanbin.

After a moment, Jinhwan says, “Oh, right.” To the other members, he says, “They want us to...” he gestures at his face and makes an exaggerated expression.

“Wait,” Yunhyeong says, gesturing at Hanbin and Bobby. “Are we acting like this is a big deal now?”

“Oh, I get it-- like, we’re supposed to be shocked,” says Chanwoo.

Donghyuk deadpans, “Oh, my goooood.”

Hanbin’s mouth drops open.

“Guys,” Bobby says, plaintive. “We’re-- we’re dating now. That’s a big deal.”

Silence.

“Oh, my goooooood,” Donghyuk repeats flatly.

“Oh, they’re dating _now,”_ Jinhwan says, rolling his eyes.

“You guys have been dating since you met,” Junhoe says, sounding bored. “Are you making food? Is that ramen? How much are you making?”

“We _just ate,”_ Jinhwan says, incredulous.

“Tall people need to eat more!” Junhoe defends. “Not that _anyone else here_ would understand,” he sasses, which is of course met with forceful disagreement, leaving Hanbin and Bobby to watch as a squabble breaks out amongst the members.

“Well,” Bobby says, sounding slightly dazed. “That went...better than expected.”

“I...guess they’re over it,” Hanbin agrees.

Across the room, Donghyuk and Junhoe are on the precipice of yet another slap fight. “No one cares how tall you are!” Donghyuk is shrieking.

Bobby and Hanbin snap to attention. “Okay, I better get in there,” Hanbin says. 

Bobby nods. He pecks Hanbin on the cheek, and moves his arms from around his waist. “I love you,” he says, with that dorky grin.

Hanbin is flustered, but pretends to be very taxed. “I love you too,” he sighs, fighting his own smile. He turns to the group.

“Hey!” he calls, striding over to break up the fight. “No hitting!”

\--

Later that evening, when it’s just them in their room, tangled up in each other, Bobby teases, “I hope this means our lessons aren’t finished.” 

“Oh,” Hanbin says, exhaling the words onto Bobby’s lips, “I guarantee you there’s more to learn.”

Bobby’s expression is a mixture of surprise and delight. “Yeah?”

_“Hyung,”_ Hanbin says, “we haven’t even gotten _started.”_


End file.
